


Genius, Acrobat, Playboy, Philanthropist

by scarletmanuka



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Acrobat Peter Parker, Acrobat Tony Stark, Alternate Universe - Circus, Angst, Fluff and Smut, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, Starker Bingo 2019, The Avengers Circus Troop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-06-09 21:56:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19484824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletmanuka/pseuds/scarletmanuka
Summary: For the Starker Bingo 2019 square - Circus AU.After Peter's aeriel acrobatics partner, Adrian Toomes is fired from The Avengers Circus Troupe for theft, he is shocked to discover that his replacement is non other than legendary performer, Tony Stark - the man that Peter had hero worshipped since he first learned how to tumble. How will Tony fit in with the close family bond that tie the Avengers together? And how will Peter cope, as he falls further and further in love with his hero?





	1. Chapter 1

"Avengers assemble!" Steve hollared and immediately the group quietened and gathered together.  
Fury looked, well, furious and he glared at Steve from his one good eye. Steve shrugged and gave him a ‘what can you do’ look and then stood at parade rest, silently urging the ringmaster to begin the meeting. Peter hid a smile behind his hand, knowing that an upset Fury was never a good thing, but not really getting why their ringmaster hadn’t just accepted that Steve herded their rag tag circus family better than he herded the big cats that he was in charge of. “Alright, people, now that we’re all here,” Fury announced, “let’s get this meeting started.”

Peter frowned and was about to object. They weren’t all here - Adrian was missing. His aerial acrobatic partner since Peter had started with The Avengers four years ago, the man was an acrobatic legend. Peter had learned so much from him and although he often gave people a ‘creep’ vibe, he’d never come across that way to Peter. He’d very much been a father figure to him. Before he could voice his objections, Fury beat him to the punch.

“Now, let’s get the worst out of the way first. You might all be wondering where Adrian Toomes has been this past week.” It was true - he’d disappeared after their final performance of the season but Peter assumed he’d gone to visit his daughter, Liz. “Well, it turns out that Toomes was a thieving mother fucker,” Fury spat, then continued over the shocked gasps that broke out amongst the troupe. “He was not only fired immediately but is now the subject of a police investigation.”

“What did he steal?” Clint asked, his powerful biceps bulging as he crossed his arms over his chest. He was angry and looked to be taking the news personally but considering that Clint was one of their security guys, Peter figured it stood to reason that he would take it so.

“Apparently he thought that he could earn a little pocket money by trading in illicit souvenirs,” Fury explained. “The props that we ‘lost’, the personal items that have gone missing - all him. It seems that there’s quite the market for worn leotards and items of sentimental value for your more adoring fans. Oh, sorry, did I say fans? I meant stalkers.” 

Peter felt like he’d been punched in the gut and he felt his knees give way until he was sinking onto the crate behind him. Natasha crossed to him and began rubbing his back in sympathy, though her costumes were the ones that disappeared most frequently. Peter had lost several pairs of his lycra tights that made up most of his performing outfits but that was nothing compared to when his mother’s locket had disappeared. He’d been devastated and Adrian had ‘helped’ him tear his cabin apart looking for it. It had been the only thing of his mother’s that he had and its loss had been heartbreaking. To know that it was probably Adrian who had taken it, to be sold to the highest bidder, made him feel sick. 

The noise as the group began exclaiming and grumbling amongst each other grew to quite a racket but Fury allowed them some time to vent. They were a close knit family and to find that one of their own had betrayed them hurt, especially in such a manner. The Avengers were the most successful circus troupe on the east coast and had gathered quite the following over the years. They had hardcore fans that came to almost every peformance, and would attempt to sneak past Clint and his team to try and get some one on one time from their favourite performer. Peter had been surprised to discover that his own legion of fans were quite zealous but Adrian had always laughed, telling him that he was young and pretty so of course people would obsess over him. It made Peter uncomfortable however and so he became almost a hermit - avoiding social media or any online presence, never venturing into any of the towns that they visited, preferring to stay on site, and hurrying back to the safety of his quarters as soon as their performance had ended for the evening. 

Fury finally cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to himself. “Look, I get it, people - this is a shock to all of us and I understand that you’re angry and hurt. However, the show must go on. We all know this.”

“Who will be replacing him?” Sam asked. “Aerial acrobatics is our biggest draw card and Peter needs a partner worthy of his talent. You can’t just give him anyone and hope for the best, he deserves better than that.”

There was a murmur of agreement and Peter found himself blushing at their praise.

“If you’ll let me get a word in edgewise,” Fury griped, “I would have already made the announcement.” He glared at Sam, who just raised an eyebrow at him expectantly. “I take it you’re all familiar with The Iron Circus?”

They collectively held their breaths - The Iron Circus would be their biggest rivals except that they operated on the west coast. They’d never actually competed against each other but it would be a close battle to determine who was the best circus troupe in America. Their aerial acrobatics routine was legendary however and Peter had been an admirer of their star, Tony Stark since he’d first used a swing. Luring someone away from the Iron Circus would be a feat in itself and he couldn’t comprehend who Fury could have recruited. No one would willingly give up the opportunity to be a part of such an esteemed circus, would they?

“I see _that_ got your attention,” Fury said with a smirk. “I’d like to introduce the newest member of The Avengers - please give a warm welcome to the one and only, Mr Tony Stark himself.” He held up his arm and the door to the training area where they were gathered opened, revealing the dark silhouette of a man. As he walked into the light it became clear that Fury wasn’t bullshitting - Tony freaking Stark was actually here.

Dead silence met the acrobat and he came to a halt beside Fury, one manicured eyebrow arched towards the team. “Please tell me they know who I am,” he said to Fury, his tone indicating that that had never happened before.

“Of course we know who you are,” Sam told him. “I think I speak for all of us when I say that we’re just wondering _why_ you’re here.”

Stark held his hands open in supplication. “There was a job opening?”

It was Steve who replied. “You expect us to believe that you’d be willing to give up the star role in The Iron Circus simply because there was an opening?”

Peter frowned as he saw Stark’s eyes shutter a little, his smile becoming a little less genuine. He suddenly felt the need to defend the man and he stepped forward. “Does it matter why he’s here? I thought the unspoken rule was that we never pry.”

“I just find it odd that he’d give up such a prestigious job and move across the country. Why did you do it, Stark?” Steve pressed. “You running from something?”

“We’re all running from _something,”_ Peter argued. “Just leave it be, Steve.” He turned to his hero and offered him a smile. “I for one am glad to have you, Mr Stark. My name is Peter Parker and I’ll be your partner.”

Stark nodded at him. “I know who you are, Parker. You’ve got talent, kid. It’ll be an honour to work with you.”

He blushed at that and when Stark gave him a wink, he was moments away from honest to God swooning. 

“I expect that you will all make Stark feel welcome,” Fury reiterated, and there was no mistaking the threat of what would be in store for them if they disobeyed. “Now, we have a lot of work to do to create our new show and only three months to do it in. We’re on the back foot after this bullshit with Toomes so I expect everyone to knuckle down and work hard.”

“Did you decide on a theme?” Natasha asked. Each season’s show was based around a particular theme, last season’s being Animals. Peter had enjoyed that one the best of all of their themes, turning his silks act into an homage to spiders. He’d spun and weaved his silks so gracefully that the audience had been enraptured, earning him the nickname The Spiderman from the press. 

“I have,” Fury confirmed. “This season’s theme will be Superheroes. You’ll have a month to work it into your acts and then present to the troupe, and then we’ll start rehearsals.”

“Awesome!” Peter heard Ned exclaim and he shot his friend a grin which the Strongman returned.

“As usual,” Fury continued, “if you have any concrete ideas before the month is up, run them past me so we can get it to Sets and Props. Barnes always appreciates being able to get a head start on your ideas."

“Only because they’re generally ridiculously outlandish,” he drawled and glared at Peter Quill and Scott Lang.

Scott flapped his hands defensively. “Hey! Clowning is serious business and deserves respect. Our set was only barely adequate.”

Barnes narrowed his eyes at this. “You had me make a fucking boat so you could play Noah and explain why the unicorns went extinct.”

“To be fair, that part of history is unfairly glossed over,” Quill joked.

“A boat,” Barnes repeated. 

“The _shell_ of a boat,” Scott corrected. “It didn't actually have to sail anywhere.”

“It was a full sized boat, you fucker, and I only had five weeks to build it! I didn't sleep for most of that!”

Neither Quill nor Scott looked repentant and Fury hurried to step in before punches were thrown. _“Anyway,_ as I was saying, we’ve got a lot of work to do so get some sleep - we’ve got an early start tomorrow.” He turned to Peter. “Toomes’ quarters have been cleaned out so can you show Stark where he’ll be staying?”

Peter nodded. “Of course, sir.”

“Right, class dismissed,” Fury snapped and then turned in a swirl of his leather jacket before he stalked out of the room, presumably to his own quarters.

Before Peter could approach Stark, Ned caught him in a rough bear hug and he squeaked as his ribs were crushed. “Hey, hey, hey,” Peter wheezed, “no damaging the goods.”

“Sorry,” Ned cried, “I’m just so excited. This is finally something that I’ll enjoy.”

Peter understood. Ned generally got stuck when it came to ideas. The first year Peter worked with him, the theme was The Fae and Ned had looked ridiculous in fairy wings. At least with Superheroes he would be able to put his strength to good use. “I reckon you’ll be the star of the show,” he assured his friend.

Ned scoffed at that. “As if, now that we have Tony Stark performing with us.” His eyes widened. “Ooooh, wow - you get to _work_ with Tony Stark!” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, causing Peter to blush - again. People were going to think he had a fever.

“I knew there was a reason I should never have told you about my crush,” he grumbled.

Before Ned could reply, the man in question walked over to them. “Hey kid, you ready?”

“Ah, sure. Night, Ned.”

“Night,” Ned replied, doing his ridiculous eyebrow waggle again. Luckily, Stark didn’t appear to notice.

“We’re towards the back of the lot,” Peter explained as he led Stark out of the main pavilion and onto the snowy grounds, pulling his coat more snugly around him. The troupe toured for six months of the year up and down the coast but the rest of the time they were either doing home shows here at their complex in upstate New York or were on their hiatus, preparing for the next season. The Avengers Compound was the closest place to a home Peter had had in a long time; these people were the only family he had now, with his parents long dead and his aunt and uncle following them when Peter was only fourteen. 

They walked in comfortable silence for a while, Stark looking around curiously. Workshops, storage sheds, and the animal enclosure where Steve spent most of his time were all behind the main pavilion and behind those were the living quarters. Since it was their base of operations and they were such a renowned act, the quarters weren’t the crappy industrial temporary buildings that would be expected but small wooden cabins, all painted brightly. Peter led Stark to one with a red roof and yellow trim and dug a key out of his pocket. He unlocked the door and then held it out. “Um, Adrian and I both had keys to each other’s places, but uh, you might not want that with me.”

Stark smiled. “Keep it, kid. We’re going to be working together pretty closely - if you give it back now I’ll probably just end up handing it back over in a week or two anyway.”

Oddly pleased by this, Peter nodded and followed Stark inside. Several pieces of luggage had been brought in by the hands and the heating had been turned on, making the small cabin nice and snug. “So, there’s not much to it,” Peter said, gesturing around. “Living area and kitchenette, that door there is the bedroom and that one is the bathroom. The cable is a little patchy for some reason but the WiFi is awesome. There’s a mess hall behind the main pavilion and the team generally eat there since the facilities here are a little basic.”

Stark crossed to the bedroom and opened the door to look inside, nodding happily at the queen sized bed. The mattresses were top of the line - Fury knew that his bread and butter came from most of his performers’ physicality and he was vigilant about taking care of their health. A good night’s sleep was something he drilled into them regularly. “Wanna help me with this?” Stark asked, nodding towards the folded clean linen at the base of the bed.

Peter nodded and happily came over, helping to make the bed. Once they’d wrestled the fitted sheet on, they began layering the blankets one on top of the other, warding against the chill of the night. “Cheers,” Stark said once it was done. He went back through to the small living area and gestured to a chair. “Would you like a drink? I’ve got a bottle of whiskey in my bags somewhere.”

Peter shook his head. “No thanks - I’m not a big drinker.”

“Well, now I know one thing about you. I figured since we’ll be partners, we should get to know one another.”

Peter chuckled. “Sounds like a plan, Mr Stark.”

“Okay, that just there, kid? Has to go. Mr Stark was my father and he was an asshole. Call me, Tony. Please.”

“Okay, Tony,” Peter acquiesced, “but the kid thing needs to go as well. I’m twenty two, not a child.”

Tony smirked. “Yeah, well I’m old enough to be your father, that might be a little hard to do.”

Peter arched a brow. “Why not try now before it becomes a habit?”

“‘cos that’s less fun?”

“Alright, have it your way, old man.”

Tony gasped mock scandalously. “Old man? That’s harsh!”

Peter grinned. “Just a kid, telling it how it is.”

“Alright, alright, you made your point,” Tony relented. “No more ‘kid’, or ‘old man’, okay?”

Peter held out his hand and they shook on it. “Deal,”

“Just my luck to get a cheeky one,” Tony grumbled but he was smiling so Peter could tell he was actually quite happy with the development.

“So, in the interest of getting to know one another, can I ask what made you leave The Iron Circus and join us?”

Some of the joy went out of Tony’s face and Peter immediately regretted asking. “Oh, well, some shit went down with Obie, our Ringmaster. I’d known him for years - he was an old family friend, and after that kind of betrayal, well, I needed a change of scenery.” He didn't go into further detail and Peter knew he wouldn’t get anymore. “How are you doing, anyway?” Tony asked, concern in his eyes. “You were close with Toomes, yeah? That kind of betrayal must have knocked you around.”

Peter shrugged. “It’s still so hard to believe,” he admitted. “I mean, I guess it’s too fresh to really untangle how I’m feeling, but if he really did steal my mother’s locket, well, I really hope that he gets his comeuppance in jail.”

“Locket?”

“It was the only thing I had left from my mom - she and dad died when I was young. It went missing a while ago but now I’m questioning its disappearance.”

Tony winced. “Ouch, What a douche.”

“Yeah.” It was still so raw, Peter wasn’t sure how to feel just now. He was suddenly exhausted. “Um, I’d better get going, leave you to unpack.”

“Sure,” Tony agreed, standing up. “Are you close by?”

Peter nodded. “The next cabin over - the one with the blue trim.”

“Okay, well sleep well and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night, Tony.”

“Goodnight. Oh, and Pete?” Peter stopped on the front step and turned to see Tony standing in the open doorway. “I’m really looking forward to working with you.”

He felt like beaming but managed to contain it to a warm smile. “Thanks, same goes for you, Tony.” With one last wave, Peter stepped down onto the well worn path between their cabins and hurried home.

Later, as he lay awake, staring at the ceiling, he wondered at the turn of events, and pondered how they would affect his future. He had never even considered the possibility of working with his hero but here he was, his new partner. Peter knew that this would change things, drag him further into the spotlight, make it harder to retain his privacy but as he thought about Tony’s smile and the warmth in those brown eyes, he decided that it might be a price that he was very willing to pay.


	2. Chapter 2

The smell of coffee drifted over the chilly morning air as Peter trudged through the inch of snow that had fallen overnight. He shivered as he loped up the stairs to Tony’s cabin and knocked on the door, his breath fogging in front of him. His new partner didn't leave him out in the cold for long and the door swung open, inviting him inside the warm interior. “Morning,” Peter said between chattering teeth.

Tony grunted at him, clearly not a morning person, and thrust a travel mug of strong coffee in his direction. Peter accepted it gratefully, his eyes drifting over to the kitchen where a futuristic looking machine was sitting on the small bench. Tony saw him looking and finally offered him a small smile. “That’s Dum-E, he goes everywhere with me.”

“You named your coffee machine?”

“He’s not just _any_ coffee machine, Pete - I built him when I was sixteen and required better coffee than could be found at MIT’s cafeteria.”

“You went to MIT?” Peter asked in shock. “At sixteen?”

“I _graduated_ from MIT at sixteen,” Tony corrected. “Dum-E got me through my final exams with my sanity intact. He’s the best thing I ever built.”

“I can’t believe you built him!”

“I made my first circuit board when I was four. Machines just talk to me.”

Peter knew that his eyes must be wide with awe but he didn't have it in him to care. “No offence but what the fuck are you doing _in the circus?_ You could be a billionaire by now if you’d gone into engineering!”

Like the night previously, Tony’s expression seemed to shutter and he quickly changed the subject. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

“Um, well after breakfast I figured we could do some brainstorming for ideas for our performance, maybe do some exercises, see how we work with one another?”

Tony nodded and drained the last of the coffee in his own mug, then filled it up to the brim once more. “Sounds good. Shall we head to breakfast?”

Once upon a time, Peter might have pushed for more information about Tony’s past; his enthusiasm trumping tact or politeness. Four years of being in the spotlight at The Avengers had given him an appreciation for his own privacy and so he now respected other people’s rights to the same. He stepped outside and waited while Tony locked up and then they fell into easy step beside one another as they headed for the main building. 

“What’s that over there?” Tony asked, pointing with his chin towards the animal enclosure since the hand that wasn’t holding his coffee was fisted deep inside his pocket for warmth. 

“That’s where Steve and his babies reside,” Peter explained. “We have two tigers - Greg and Todd, and one black panther - Geraldine.”

Tony paused in his tracks to shoot Peter an incredulous look. “Really?”

“Hey, don’t blame me - I didn’t name them.”

“The Iron Circus didn't have any animals other than ponies,” Tony told him with a hint of judgement in his voice.

“We didn't used to, either. Steve is friends with Bucky - James Barnes, our sets guy - and used to work in an animal sanctuary. The three big cats were rescued from a circus down in New Mexico where they were pretty harshly treated and sent to the sanctuary. They just didn't cope though. They’d been born and raised in captivity, performing since they were kits, and they were suffering there. It soon became clear to Steve that they would actually have better quality of life if they were in a familiar environment but he didn’t trust anyone else to take care of them but himself. Bucky suggested that he join up with The Avengers and Fury was all for it. Steve finally agreed but there’s a stipulation in his contract that he gets to have four open nights a year where he can educate people on the harm that domestication can have on wild animals. Greg, Todd, and Geraldine are his examples of how badly it can go wrong. The weekends that he runs those education sessions, a portion of our profits go towards funding for the sanctuary where he used to work.”

“Huh,” Tony grunted. “He did seem to be a boy scout.”

“Yeah, well, he’s passionate about what he does.”

They finally reached the main building and the temperature inside was so warm compared to outside that Peter’s skin tingled almost painfully. He shucked his coat and hung it up on the rack by the entryway and he was then leading Tony down labyrinthine corridors towards the mess hall. It was busy already with everyone following Fury’s orders to have an early start and they joined the end of the queue, grabbing food but ignoring the line for coffee since they had a mug of the good stuff from Tony’s stash. Peter led them to a small table on the far end of the room, deliberately not joining one of the bigger groups. He and Tony needed to get to know one another and develop the kind of trust that was a massive factor in their working relationship. Some of their death defying stunts were performed without a safety net and so they literally held each other’s lives in their hands. The rest of the troupe understood this and so other than a few waves and nods in their direction, they were left alone.

Tony drizzled honey on his oatmeal and then looked towards the bigger group. “So, what’s the rundown on everyone?”

Peter poured some yoghurt over his bircher muesli and wondered where to start. “I guess Sam and Nat will be the guys that we’ll overlap with the most.” He tilted his head in their direction. “They both do acrobatics as well as contortion and hoops. Nat is scared of heights so never does trapeze but the odd time that we needed a third, Sam would join Adrian and I.”

“She looks familiar,” Tony mused, his eyes on Natasha. “I’m sure I’ve seen her somewhere other than here but I have a thing for redheads so maybe I’m confusing her for someone else.”

Peter snorted. “That might be her eight Olympic gold medals in gymnastics.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up at this. “Really?”

“Yep. She competed for Russia in her teens but was dumped afterwards when she was deemed too old.”

“Ouch, that’s harsh.”

Peter shrugged. It was the nature of the industry, and even in his own line of work, there weren’t many people still going after thirty five. Adrian and Tony were the exceptions to the rule but it just showed how athletic they were that they were still at the top of their game in their late forties.

Well, Adrian _had_ been at the top of his game, Peter reminded himself. He supposed there would be little opportunity in prison to soar above the crowd.

“What about the guy with the swanky facial hair?” Tony prompted, and Peter knew he was asking simply to have Peter explain it - there was no way that he wouldn't have done his research before taking on the position. Peter appreciated the gesture, knowing that it would help them build a friendship.

“That’s Stephen and he’s our illusionist, and really, you can’t make judgements about his facial hair when you’re sporting _that,”_ he teased.

Tony stroked his hand down over his goatee. “This is _dashing,_ I’ll have you know. It drives the ladies wild.” He winked lavisciously and Peter tried to ignore the jealousy coiling in his gut at the thought of the women who got to share a bed with Tony.

“Annyway, Stephen is awesome. He won’t tell any of us how he does his tricks but he’s a huge drawcard for us. Not many circuses have an illusionist so it makes us a little bit unique.”

“Yeah, it was something I always pushed for at IC but Obie always shouted me down.” A pained look crossed his features and Peter wasn’t at all surprised when he directed the conversation elsewhere other than his past. “And the other redhead? Really, I’m spoiled for choice here.” He winked again but this time, Peter didn’t feel the pinch of jealousy since he knew a diversionary tactic when he saw one.

“That’s Wanda. She and Vis do a juggling and tightrope act. It’s pretty awesome.”

“Nice. And the guy with you last night?”

“Ned, he’s my best friend and our strongman. He once pulled a truck from one side of the ring to the other.”

Tony looked impressed. 

“Those guys there come under Bucky - they not only help him build sets and stuff but then are our stage hands. The guy on the right is Dum Dum Dugan - not to be confused with your coffee machine -, Jim Morita, and Gabe Jones.” He looked around the room and his eyes landed on another table. “You met Clint last night - he’s security and the guy sitting with him is his partner, Phil.”

“Partner as in partner or partner as in _partner?”_ Tony asked.

Peter frowned. “Partner as in both. They work together and _are_ together. Is that a problem?” Tony had a reputation as a playboy and from what Peter had heard, he seemed as interested in random women as the press made it seem but he had no idea about his feelings towards homosexuals. That would be a dealbreaker for Peter since he couldn’t work with someone who didn't accept him fully for himself and he’d been sure of his sexuality by age fourteen after a clumsy exchange of handjobs with Bobby Harrison in the changerooms after class. He didn’t know how he’d cope if it turned out that his hero was homophobic but it wouldn’t end well.

Tony’s eyes widened as he perceived the reason behind Peter’s frosty tone and he reached over and placed a hand on Peter’s forearm. “No, no problem at all, I swear.”

Peter held his gaze for a long moment, judging the sincerity there and then finally nodded. He looked over to the table where Clint and Phil were sitting and said, “The other two guys with them are Peter Quill and Scott Lang. They’re our clowns, though Quill prefers the title ‘Physical Comedians’. They’re really good at what they do.”

“Everyone seems to be. You have a good group here.”

 _“We_ have a good group,” Peter corrected. “You’re one of us now, remember.”

Tony laughed and then dug into his rapidly cooling oatmeal. They ate in a comfortable silence for a while and then there was a buzz in the room and they both looked up. A slender redhead in a fitted pantsuit and towering heels had just entered the mess with Carol, their marketing and admin guru. The stranger looked around the room, ignoring the confused stares and whispers and then spotted Tony and trotted over, Carol following behind.

“Pep!” Tony exclaimed and jumped to his feet, kissing both her cheeks.

“Tony,” she greeted him, “you’re looking better than I expected.”

He shrugged. “Can’t let it get me down forever.” He turned to Peter and smiled. “Pete, this is Pepper Potts, my PA. Pep, this is Pete, my new partner.”

She held out a hand and gave a surprisingly firm handshake for such a demure looking woman. Peter smiled and said hello and then looked over to Carol, who wasn’t looking overly pleased with the situation. No one else had personal staff - Carol and Fury took care of everything between them - but it seemed that Fury had agreed to almost anything to get Tony in their troupe. “Hey, Carol,” he said softly.

“Hey, Peter Parker,” she shot back, her eyes softening when she looked at him. “I guess I’ll leave you all to it. You know where to find me if you need any help.”

“I think we’ll manage,” Pepper said, earning a glare from Carol.

Tony was smart enough to try and smooth that over. “Thank you so much, Carol - we’ll find you if we need you.”

Pepper sat herself at the table and pulled out a tablet and got straight down to business, ignoring Carol as she stalked off. “I’ve already had numerous requests for interviews from all the major newspapers and magazines but I think that you should give exclusive rights to just one. Otherwise they’ll all be yammering for one and it’ll get tiresome, and I’ve got better things to do than fend off journalists.”

Tony nodded. “Sure, if you think that’s best. Who are you considering?”

“I’ve narrowed it down to three - The Daily Globe, The New York Times, and Vanity Fair.”

“Definitely not The Times,” Tony vetoed. “Who’s lined up for The Globe?”

“Um.” Pepper consulted her tablet. “Eddie Brock.”

“And Vanity Fair?”

“Christine Everhart.”

“Let’s go with Vanity Fair. I think a spread in a magazine will be more in depth than an article in the paper.”

Pepper’s lips formed into a tight line. “And it has absolutely no bearing on the fact that Everhart is likely to spread for you?”

Tony gave her an innocent smile. “Pep, I’m hurt! Do you think so little of me?”

“I think so little of your dick, Tony, which is what you think with when a pretty blonde is around.”

“Ah, come one - you know I’m more partial to redheads!”

She just looked at him steadily until he gave in and then got back to business. “Stane has called me seventeen times in the last forty eight hours and I thi -”

“Block him,” Tony snapped, his teasing tone from moments ago gone.

It looked like Pepper wanted to say something but she held her tongue, and just nodded. “Make A Wish have been in touch,” she continued. “They have a little boy called Jordan who is requesting to spend a day with you.”

“Make it happen.”

“Does any particular date suit you better?” she asked. “I’m not familiar with your schedule here as yet.”

“Whenever works best for Jasper, Pep. He’s the one with the deadline.” He winced a little at his slip of the tongue but pressed on, “Come on, you know how it is with these things.”

She nodded. “Right, I’ll let them know and will pop it in your calendar. Now, some of your stocks are…”

Peter tuned them out as they continued to talk business, feeling uncomfortable and wanting to leave. He felt stupid for not realising what would be entailed with having such a star as Tony on their team. Sure, he’d had an inkling that the press presence would be increased at their shows but he’d assumed that their hiatus would be safe from prying journalists. Having a woman from Vanity Fair come along would involve possibly several days of having her trail Tony as he went about his new routine, which would also mean trailing Peter. The invasion of privacy would sting but probably not as much as watching Tony flirt with her constantly. Which was ridiculous - he’d known the man for less than a day! But he’d been crushing on him for almost eight years now and the distance of it being a celebrity crush was now gone. Before, he would see headlines splashed across the papers about Tony’s playboy exploits and he wouldn’t think anything of it, would just drool over whatever gorgeous outfit the man had been photographed in. Now that he would have to watch it all unfold in the flesh, so to soak, it hammered home just how stupid he was for the feelings he had for Tony. His celebrity crush was now a real crush and the heartbreak that went along with that would be equally as real.

Unable to stand sitting at the table a moment longer, Peter stood up suddenly, his chair scraping loudly on the floor. Tony and Pepper stopped talking immediately and their heads swung about to look at him. “I’m uh, I’m going to head to the gym. Start warming up. Anyone here can direct you there.” He didn't wait for a response as he hurried from the mess, just needing a moment alone. By the time he made it to the gym, his chest was feeling tight and he was breathing heavily. “For fuck’s sake, Peter - get it together,” he scolded himself. “He’s way out of your league anyway, even if he wasn’t straight. You gotta move the fuck on.”

His pep talk did little to make him feel better and so he did what always helped in such situations. He got changed into his tights, stretched and did a few warm up exercises, and then climbed up to the highest platform and took hold of the fly bar. Then he was soaring and everything else fell away.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter let go of the fly bar and twisted into a triple somersault before he falling gracefully downwards into the net waiting below. He bounced back high into the air and he spun his body once, twice more, then bounced again and added a half twist before landing and flipping into a backwards somersault. He heard a wolf whistle behind him and he spun about to see Tony leaning idly against the doorway. “Looking good,” Tony drawled.

“I didn't know you were finished with Miss Potts,” Peter said as he bounced his way across the net to the ladder.

“Pep’s good at what she does so she doesn’t spend a lot of time grilling me, just tells me what to do. I’m free now though so we can get started if you want.”

Peter jumped down the last three rungs and crossed to where his bag was sitting and pulled out a sweat towel. He dabbed at his face and nodded. “Sure. How do you want to go about it?”

“Well, I got a pretty good idea of your style from watching you. The net’s waiting - wanna just jump right in?”

“You’re that confident?” Peter asked in a teasing tone.

“Yep.” He popped the p.

“Fury tell you I’m a flyer?”

Tony nodded. “He did - I’m a catcher and I don’t switch so that was a factor in me approaching him.”

“Wait, what? You approached him about the job? I thought he headhunted you?”

“Would’ve taken longer than a week to work out the deal if I’d not been half gone already,” he said cryptically. “So, we’re on?”

“Sure.” 

Peter just as Tony began to peel out of his clothes, revealing the scarlet tights he was wearing under his jeans, his chest bare. His torso was broad and solid, his muscles rippling under the skin and even if Peter wasn’t familiar with his work already, his physique alone would have assured him that Tony was built to be a catcher. His eyes lingered on the flexing biceps a count longer than was appropriate and he quickly turned and hurried over to the bench where the tapes were kept. He’d only chalked his hands earlier but working with someone else required more grip and so he skillfully wrapped his hands with the tape, covering callouses from years of working the fly bar. Tony soon joined him and after taping his own hands he caught first one hand of Peter’s and then the other in a tight hold, checking both of their grip levels. “Okay, let’s do this,” he said once he was satisfied.

They turned and crossed to their respective ladders, clambering up like limber monkeys until they were perched on their boards. Peter grabbed the noodle and used it to pull his fly bar close enough to grab hold of and then waited for Tony’s nod that he was in position. He leapt off the board, swinging down in a wide arc, pointing his body so that he built momentum on his return swing. He did this several times over and then when he knew he had built enough height in his swing, he called out, “Ready!”

Tony bent his knees and then watched Peter carefully. As soon as Peter reached a certain point in his arc, Tony leapt off his own board and was flying through the air as well. As he reached the height of his swing, he flipped himself up, hooking his knees over his catch bar, and then swung upside down back towards the board. Peter kept his eye on Tony the entire way and when he called out, “Hup!”, Peter let go of the fly bar, feeling himself move unaided through the air, graceful and fluid, his arms outstretched. Strong fingers closed around his own and the timing was so perfect that instead of his momentum being halted, he continued on his original trajectory smoothly. They reached the end of the arc and swung back towards the middle. Tony’s gaze was focused on Peter so intently that it almost took his breath away - everything else ceased to exist, his entire focus narrowing down to Tony and only Tony. They seemed to be perfectly in sync and he knew a nano second before Tony flexed his arms what he was going to do and he felt himself being thrust upwards and he let go, spinning deftly through the air in a double twist before his hands smacked back into Tony’s, fingers clenching around his wrists.

“Feet this time,” Tony called and Peter nodded and when Tony released him, Peter somersaulted through the air, once, twice, then half a turn and he felt those fingers clasp around his ankles. He felt the raw power of Tony’s strength as he was then flipped upwards, and he twisted in the air once more, and Tony caught him in the angle pose - holding onto one arm and one leg.

They continued through various moves and tricks, their confidence in one another growing by the second. The intense focus that Tony had for Peter dispelled any fears of Peter’s that the man might be too fickle or distracted to be a good partner. Even after four years of working with Adrian, they hadn't been this connected during a routine. It almost felt like there was no need to even think, it was just pure instincts and a trust so absolute that it bordered on uncanny. There was simply no way that they should have such a connection already but the proof was in the pudding as they executed perfect move after perfect move. By the time they both dropped down to the net below, Peter felt like he’d been working with Tony for his entire life, not just an hour. He didn't know what to do with that thought so he tucked it away, telling himself that he’d examine it later. 

They climbed down from the net and grabbed their water bottles, both flushed with exertion. Tony took a long swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing and then wiped at his brow with his wrist. “So, was it as good for you as it was for me?” he asked with a smirk.

Peter was surprised. “It wasn't just me then?” 

“Ah, no. I have never before in my life had an instant choreography with someone like that before. I don’t even think Rhodey - my last partner - was that in synch with me and we’d been working together for over a decade.” Tony looked awed. “You’re amazing, kid.”

“And you’re not too bad yourself, _old man.”_

Tony laughed and held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I totally deserved that, but seriously, the clips I watched of you don’t do you justice, Pete. I don’t think I’ve ever worked with someone so talented before.”

He was blushing furiously but couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “Wow, um, that means a lot to me, Tony. You’ve been my idol since, uh, since the very beginning and to have you think that, uh, it’s just, um, oh God, I’m embarrassing myself now, I’ll just shut up.” 

Tony laughed and threw an arm around his shoulder. “No, you’re not - you;re just modest, which is something that I have no experience with personally.”

This made Peter laugh and the tension drained from him. He leaned in a little to the heat of Tony’s flushed body pressing against him, felt the slide of their sweaty skin together and before he could stop it, his mind supplied the data that this is probably what it felt like to be wrapped around Tony post coitus. If he wasn’t already a nice shade of beetroot before, he certainly was now.

“How about we get dressed and then figure out what we want to do for our act,” Tony suggested, pulling away too soon and not soon enough.

“Uh, sure, we can do that. Where do you want to brainstorm? It’ll get pretty busy in here soon.”

“How ‘bout my cabin,” Tony suggested as he began to stretch, bending over almost in half and giving Peter a nice view of his taut ass.

“Uh huh,” Peter agreed, not trusting his voice to not crack if he used proper words. He ducked down into his own stretch so he wouldn’t be caught looking at Tony’s ass again.

“So much enthusiasm,” Tony teased, rolling his eyes. “I know it’s not the Ritz but it’s warm at least.”

“I bet.” It sounded slightly breathless.

“We can go somewhere else if you prefer?”

“No!” he said, much too quickly to be casual. He was _not_ missing out on the opportunity to spend time alone with Tony. “I mean, no, your place is good, please, let’s go there.” Shit, that sounded too desperate. He quickly leaned over, stretching his hamstrings.

There was a long silence. “It’s okay, Pete,” Tony said softly, pulling out of his stretch and laying a hand on Peter’s knee. “I know, okay - I figured it out and it’s okay.”

His head shot up and with wide eyes he managed to squeak, “What’s okay?” If Tony had seen how badly Peter was crushing on him, things would probably get awkward fast.

“I get it, okay. You only want to come to my place because of Dum-E but that’s okay, I know that people only like me to get to him. He’s very lovable, after all.” 

Oh thank fuck, Tony was teasing him. His emotions were flipping more than his body had been in the air earlier. “Ha ha,” he replied dryly. “It’s not just Dum-E I like, okay.”

“It’s not?” Was that vulnerability in Tony’s eyes?

“No. Your gas heater is also _much_ nicer than mine - warms up the whole cabin, not just the foot in front of it,” Peter said, deadpan.

Tony threw his sweat towel at Peter, hitting him in the face. “For that, _I’m_ having the first cup of coffee from Dum-E. Cheeky sod.”

They laughed and then Tony jumped to his feet and held out a hand for Peter. They’d removed their grips and so he could feel the callouses on Tony’s palms and fingers as they wrapped easily around his smaller hand and pulled him to his feet. They got dressed and then stopped at the coat rack on their way out to rug up in their heavy coats. Tony stepped in close to Peter and reached behind him to flip up the hood of his coat that was lined with soft, fake fur. “Can’t have you catching cold,” Tony murmured, his dark eyes warm as he made sure the hood was snug against Peter’s face and throat.

Peter’s heart gave a little stutter but before he could do something ridiculously stupid like throw himself at Tony and kiss him, he was distracted by the sound of running feet. He looked around and saw Clint and Phil running down the hallway. “What is it? What’s wrong?” he cried.

“It’s Dum Dum,” Clint said, slowly but not stopping as Phl sprinted ahead of him. “He was attacked in the parking lot.”

Peter and Tony looked at each other in shock and then as one, they were running after Clint and Phil.


	4. Chapter 4

It was bad enough that an ambulance had been called. Besides a nasty gash to his head, both of Dum Dum’s arms had been broken. The entire troupe had gathered in the parking lot, watching in shock and anger as the paramedics assessed their teammate and then took him away to the nearest hospital. Bucky was looking murderous and as soon as the ambulance disappeared, he rounded on Clint and Phil. “What the fuck happened?” he snarled.

“We’re looking into that,” Phil told him, calm and steady but immovable. 

“Was it something personal or was he just in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

“We’re looking into that too.”

“Dum Dum wouldn’t hurt a fly, Phil! Who the hell would want to hurt him?” Bucky’s voice cracked a little at the end.

“Barnes, we’re -”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky said, cutting him off, “you’re looking into it.”

Phil reached out and clasped his forearm. “We are, I swear. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“I truly hope so,” Fury interjected. “If someone is targeting my guys, I need to know about it.”

“And you will, sir,” Phil assured him. “Clint and I will be examining the security camera footage as soon as we’re done here. For now, I suggest that everyone take precautions.”

“Such as?” Fury asked.

“Move about the compound in pairs, if you have to leave for any reason, make sure to sign in and out and to check in on the hour, and make sure you lock your doors if you’re alone in your quarters.”

Fury nodded and then addresses the group. “You heard him people! We’re taking it back to kindergarten with the buddy system, keep your phones on you at all times, and if you see anything suspicious, you alert Coulson or Barton immediately.”

They all nodded and then began to drift away. Peter was quiet as they made their way back inside, more shaken than he cared to admit. With not only working but living with the circus, he’d been rather sheltered in recent years and random acts of violence were foreign to him. Once upon a time when he lived in Queens with his aunt and uncle, he wouldn’t have blinked an eye at a mugging or robbery but now that one of his friends had been attacked, he felt exposed and vulnerable. 

Tony slipped an arm about his shoulders and steered him towards the mess. “How ‘bout we grab something for lunch to take back to my cabin?” he suggested.

Peter just nodded and allowed himself to be led. Tony filled two plates with food and wrangled some cling film from the caterers to keep off any errant snow as they made the trek across the compound to the living areas. Peter blinked and found himself sitting on the couch, sans coat and scarf, staring at a steaming cup of coffee being held in front of him. “You might not be up for food just yet but let’s try and get you warmed up, huh?”

He smiled gratefully at Tony, realising how out of it he must have been that his partner had managed to get him inside, out of his coat and then steered onto the couch without him even realising. “Thanks,” he said softly.

“You okay?” Tony asked, sitting next to him.

Peter shrugged. “It’s just a bit much, everything that’s been going on.”

“Yeah, it can’t have been easy for you. Did you want to skip the brainstorming session? If you’re not up for it, we can come back to it tomorrow?”

He shook his head. “No, if it’s okay I’d like to work on it now. I think the distraction would be good.”

Tony grinned and pulled out a tablet so he could make notes and Peter noticed that it wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen before. 

“That’s fancy,” he said.

“This old thing?” Tony ran his hands lovingly over the screen. “I, uh, well, I used to tinker with tech. Actually, my family had a tech business once upon a time. Mostly weapons, mind you, but also cool stuff like early versions of smartphones and tablets.”

“What happened?”

“Well, my parents died and, long story short, I’d already bitterly disappointed them by running away and joining the circus with my Uncle Obie. I didn't want to take over the company so I sold it to Hammer Tech. I still like to design stuff and even build a few things in my downtime, and this is one of those things.”

“That’s really cool,” Peter said, touched that Tony was sharing such a personal thing with him. “The man you mentioned, Obie - he’s who you’re running from?”

Several emotions flickered across Tony’s face - anger, regret, sadness - and Peter thought that he’d pushed too far, that Tony would refuse to answer. But to his surprise, he did. “We’re all running from something, huh?” he quoted Peter from the night previously. “Yeah, I guess I am. I don’t want to go into what he did but yeah, he’s the reason I left Iron Circus.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” Peter told him, smiling up at him.

“Same here, Pete. Same here.” They fell silent for a long moment and then Tony cleared his throat. “So, Superheroes. You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“It’s the only logical option for us, isn’t it?” Peter replied. “Flying superheroes.”

Tony grinned. “I bags being Superman.”

“Have at it,” Peter said magnanimously. “It’ll be you having to talk to Carol about getting licensing approvals.”

Tony’s face fell. “Fuck, I didn’t think of that. I guess unnamed, generic flying superheroes it is then!”

“I think capes will be awesome for our costumes but obviously we won’t be able to perform in them.”

“Hell no - I don’t think either of us want to fall to our deaths.”

“So just for the beginning then?”

“Yep.” Tony made some notes on his tablet and then said, “Any idea what we should call ourselves?”

“Hmmm.” Peter chewed on his lip as he thought. “Do you reckon they should be names that are already kind of associated with us?”

“Why? What are you thinking?”

“Did you see any press about our last season?”

Tony’s eyes lit up. “They called you The Spider-Man!”

Peter nodded. “And I thought for you that maybe we could call you Iron Man or something.”

Tony was nodding and his hands were flying over the tiny keyboard. “I like it.”

“I thought that maybe we could cut up some silks super fine, make them look like spider webs and you could swing me from them.”

Tony pursed his lips as he thought. “I’m not sure if silks would be strong enough once they’ve been cut so fine.”

“Oh, okay, well it was just an idea.” Peter tried to hide how disappointed he was.

“It’s an awesome idea, Pete,” Tony assured him, “we just need to come up with something stronger and safer. We can talk to Barnes and see if he has any ideas, otherwise maybe we can whip something up ourselves. I’m sure we’ll have a light bulb moment at some sta - oh!”

Peter laughed. “Did you have one just now?”

“No, well yes, but not about that, about something else! Instead of me having a cape, maybe I could fly by technology? Like a suit with rockets on the feet or something!”

“We could get Bucky to rig something up so it looks like your shoes are actually shooting flames!” Peter added with a little whoop of excitement.

Tony was grinning just as much as Peter at the thought. “Do you think we should be enemies? Maybe fighting against one another? Our act could be a battle of some description.”

Peter pondered this. “Maybe for the start, but then maybe there’s a bigger villain that comes along and we have to team up to fight him? We could work with Stephen and see if he’d be willing to team up with us, provide some illusions.”

“Wow, this is just getting better and better!” Tony’s face completely transformed when he was so enthusiastic and Peter didn't think it was possible but he was falling even harder for him. It was the worst thing he could be doing - he _should_ be getting over his stupid crush and acting professional, but that ship had long sailed. He just had to make sure that whatever he felt didn’t affect the way they worked together.

They threw around a few more ideas, which maneuvers might work best, more costume ideas (Peter ditched the idea for a cape since it wasn’t very spidery), and by the end of the afternoon they had an entire act blocked out. It was exhilarating, and not only were they excited about it and ahead of schedule, but Peter had been completely distracted from his unease over what had happened to Dum Dum. It had turned into a good afternoon. 

The following day they approached Stephen and he agreed to assist them, and so they went in search of Fury to run their idea by him. They found him seeing a tall, dark haired man out of his office, and as they shook hands, he said, “Carol will be in touch with the paperwork and once that’s done, we can bring you on board. Thanks for coming in at such short notice, Mr Rumlow.”

“Please, sir, call me Brock, and it’s a pleasure.”

The stranger nodded at Peter and Tony as he sauntered past them and they watched him go, curious. “What can I do for you two?” Fury asked, drawing their attention back to him.

“We have our routine sorted,” Tony told him, “so we wanted to get your approval so we can move forward with it.”

Fury nodded and stood aside. “Come on in then.”

They took a seat and before he could think better of it, Peter blurted, “Who was that man?”

The ringmaster didn't seem upset by the question. “A replacement for Dugan. He’ll be out for the upcoming season and I’ve agreed to hold his job for him until he’s recovered but we needed someone else on board.”

“You found someone _already?”_ Peter wasn’t exactly sure why, but it seemed almost disrespectful to have replaced the guy the day after his attack.

“Needs must, Parker.”

“Yeah, but, where did you even find him? You couldn’t have advertised already!”

Fury gave him a sour look. “Parker, you’re an intelligent guy, but you clearly have no idea how a business works. We have resumes and applications sent in all the time, even when we don’t have a position available. We keep the best of them on record so we have a ready-to-use list of people that we can call to interview at short notice. Rumlow is one of those. Now, if you’ve finished questioning the work I do, can we get to what you’ve come to see me about?”

Chagrined, he nodded and let Tony explain their concept. Fury was nodding along but he didn’t interrupt Tony, just allowed him to present the idea from start to finish. “I think it’ll be one of the best routines I’ve ever done,” he concluded, and gave his partner a warm smile. “Peter is a genius and I think that together we’re going to be a force to be reckoned with.”

“Indeed you are,” Fury agreed. “You’ve got a green light from me so get started on whatever you need.”

“Great,” Tony said, getting to his feet. “Come on, Pete, we’ve got a lot to do.” 

They left Fury’s office and went and saw Bucky, who hadn’t lost his scowl as yet. He did manage a smile when he saw Peter though and even pulled him in for a long hug. “You okay?” Peter asked him, his voice muffled against his chest.

“Not really, sweetheart, but I will be. Clint and Phil managed to pull a partial photo of the guy’s face from the footage and they’ve sent it off to the cops so maybe they’ll get a hit on their fancy software.”

“We can hope.”

Bucky finally pulled back from the hug and Peter saw Tony frowning a little. Thinking he must be more upset over the attack that he’d first thought, he decided to get to the point of their visit to distract both men. “So, we’ve had our act greenlit by Fury,” he announced.

“Already? Wow, you guys work fast!” Bucky seemed impressed.

“What can I say?” Tony said, “We work well together.”

“Right, well, lay it out for me. Whaddya need?”

They explained that they were thinking of a Manhattan background, that progressively got more and more destroyed as the act continued. “Then at the end, we want a few of the buildings behind us to be on fire and crumbling and stuff,” Peter said with a grin.

“See, _this_ is the kind of extravagant idea that I can get behind!” Bucky enthused. “It’s intricate and it's gonna take a lot of work but it’s gonna be a challenge as well. It’s not just _big_ if ya know what I mean.”

“No boats from us,” Peter replied with a grin.

Bucky laughed and pulled a sketchbook over, beginning already to sketch out ideas for their set. “So, what are you thinking for props?”

“We want Tony to have some sort of flying suit, maybe with rockets on his feet?”

Bucky nodded. “Okay, sure, that’s doable.”

“And I wanted to be able to swing from a web type substance. I originally thought silks but Tony thinks they won’t be strong enough once they’ve been shorn down thin enough to resemble a spider’s web. We’ll be doing that for out net-free part so they really need to hold up.”

Bucky arched a brow at them both. “You two are crazy mother fuckers, you know that right?”

Peter and Tony grinned at each other. “Yep!” they both said at once.

Shaking his head, Bucky scribbled a note in his sketchpad. “Right, well, I’m better at math than chemistry but I reckon I can come up with some sort of formula for a web type substance.”

“Oh! I can help,” Peter said, excited. “I was top of my class in Chem at school and I even did some university level work as an extracurricular.”

“I’m not slouch with chemistry either,” Tony added. “I’m happy to help as well.”

“Perfect,” Peter said. “Many hands make light work and all.”

“You mean ‘many hands make it less likely that you’ll fall to your death’,” Bucky corrected with a pointed glare.

He shrugged and gave an impish grin. “That too!”

“Okay, well leave this with me and I’ll see what I can come up with,” Bucky told them. “No one else is anywhere near done as yet so you’ll have my undivided attention for the time being.”

Peter gave Bucky another hug and then practically skipped from his workshop. This act was going to be _amazing_ , he could already tell.


	5. Chapter 5

They fell into a routine over the next week and a half. Each morning, Peter would make his way to Tony’s cabin where they would have a cup of coffee together before heading to breakfast. Afterwards they would go straight to the arena and work on their routine. The focus that Tony had during practise was a heady feeling for Peter, who had never had someone look at him with so much intensity before. Tony committed one hundred percent to whatever they were doing and so during the time that he spent rehearsing, Peter felt like Tony was one hundred percent committed to him.

It did nothing for his crush - in fact, it only made it worse. Since they were both so enthusiastic about their performance, they were spending most of each day working on it; if not soaring high above the arena, they were liaising with Stephen or Bucky, or getting fitted for their costumes. They ate most meals together, joining one of the larger tables for dinner but sitting next to one another. After dinner, they shared the walk back to their cabins and most nights, Tony would invite Peter in and they would spend several hours talking, or watching movies together. Once he was back in his own cabin, thoughts of Tony would fill his head and Peter had spent almost every night tangled in his sheets, fisting his cock and crying out Tony’s name as he came. Even in sleep, he was surrounded by Tony, the star of his dreams. Peter had to admit to himself that he was teetering on the edge of obsession but as soon as Tony smiled at him, or threw an arm companionably around his shoulders, he simply didn't care.

He was so caught up in the little bubble that they’d been living in that he’d completely forgotten about the journalist that Pepper had arranged to interview Tony. Christine Everhart had been granted ‘access all areas’ and would be spending two whole days shadowing Tony, learning all about his new position at The Avengers. She arrived one morning just as they were finishing breakfast and immediately, Tony perked up when he saw her. She was blonde and gorgeous, witty and smart, and Peter knew that he didn't have a chance. 

“Mr Stark.” Christine greeted him, shaking his hand. “It’s a pleasure to be given this opportunity.”

Tony reached up to cup their hands with his free one and held the grip for much longer than needed. “Miss Everhart, the pleasure is all mine.” He winked and then finally let go. He turned and waved at Peter. “I probably don’t need to introduce him since anyone who is anyone knows who he is, but this is Peter Parker, my new partner.”

“Hello, Peter,” she said, and he noticed that she didn't bother shaking _his_ hand.

“Hey,” he said in return, wanting to do nothing else but curl up and hide away so he wouldn’t have to watch these two make eyes at one another. Unfortunately, most of Tony’s work involved Peter and so he was forced to stay.

“Can I get you a coffee?” Tony offered.

“Sure,” Christine said. “I like it creamy.”

“Sugar?”

“Oh, I think I’m sweet enough.”

Tony’s lips quirked at that and he ran an appreciative eye up and down her body. “That you are,” he all but purred before he left to get her drink.

“So, Peter,” Christine said, once she’d managed to drag her eyes away from Tony’s ass. “What’s it like working with _the_ Tony Stark?”

“It’s good,” he said, not meeting her eyes.

“Just good?”

“We’ve not been working together long but we seem to do okay together.” It was a lie - he’d never had such a connection with someone before, professionally or personally, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“And how is Tony settling in here at The Avengers?”

“Okay I guess.”

“Come on, Peter, surely you can do better than that,” she cajoled. “Tell me all the juicy stuff - has there been any jealous tantrums, or arguments, anything at all?”

He glared at her. “No! What the hell do you think this is? Highschool? Everyone has been really happy to have Tony on board.”

She looked disappointed but shook it off and jumped in with another question. “And whatever happened to Adrian Toomes? Ringmaster Fury has been very closed off about why he left. He was your partner, surely you know why he left.”

He took a deep breath in and out of his nose, trying to ignore the compulsion to just walk away, but he knew that that would give her what she wanted in a way. “We were never told why Adrian left. If you want answers, you’ll need to speak to Fury.”

Her lips thinned. “Surely you have a theory? It’s all very suspicious.”

Peter just glared at her but was saved from further questions by Tony’s return. He handed over the beverage with a wink, their fingers touching and then he clapped his hands together. "So, a tour is in order, I think. What do you say? Shall I show you around?”

“I’d love that,” Christine said, demurely, and as she stood and Tony put his hand on her lower back to lead her from the mess, Peter hated her with his whole being.

They spent the next hour showing her around and Peter wondered if he could slip away unnoticed. The two were flirting outrageously with one another and every quip, every touch and lingering glance, caused jealousy to roil in Peter’s gut and his heart to ache. He followed them miserably as they finally made their way to the arena. Christine’s eyes didn't leave Tony as he stripped out of his clothes down to his tights and Peter didn’t miss the way that he undressed slower and more sensually than usual. He pulled off his own clothes and stomped over to the mats, ignoring the two people behind him. He went through his stretches and warm ups and when he looked over, Tony was still talking to Christine, her hand laying reverently on his chest. 

Knowing that he had time to kill before they got up to the bars, Peter decided to do some floor work. He’d loved gymnastics as a kid and still did, though nothing beat the feeling of flipping through the air instead of over a mat. He began with several cartwheels, the last one being an aerial where his hands didn't touch the ground, and then he flipped twice forwards and once back, landing in the splits. He then pushed himself up from the ground into a handstand, lowered his legs so he was doing an upside down split, then took one hand off the ground so he was balancing on just the one. He lowered his arm, feeling his muscles tremble and then he pushed himself up, flipping into a somersault and landing perfectly on the mat. 

He heard clapping from above and he looked up to see Brock Rumlow up on the catwalk high above them. He was working on some of the lighting equipment, a coil of wiring looped over his shoulder. “Looking good there, Parker,” he called. “You might even give Romanov a run for her money.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Peter said, blushing a little at the compliment.

“Just telling it as I see it,” Brock told him. “You got talent.”

“Uh, thanks.”

Brock winked at him and Peter turned away, unsure what to make of that and found Tony right behind him. He was frowning, and Peter wondered if things with Christine had stalled. “You ready?” Tony almost barked. “We don’t have all morning.”

“I’ve been waiting for you,” Peter snapped back, angry that Tony seemed to be taking out whatever frustrations he was having at getting into Christine’s panties out on him.

“Let’s go then.” Tony turned and stormed off to his ladder and Peter watched him go, completely shocked. He then shook his head to clear it and made his way over to his own side.

Tony’s laser focus that he had when they were up on the bars didn’t waver, but the angry edge to it meant that he pushed Peter harder than he’d done so far. The entire time, Peter was aware of Brock watching from above, and Christine watching from below but he tried to put it from his mind, pretending that they were just faceless audience members. 

Long past the time that they would usually call their first training session for the day, Tony had them still going. Peter’s arms were shaking from exertion and his hands ached from Tony’s tight grip. “Ready!” Tony called and Peter leapt from the platform, the fly bar swinging through the air. When he let go, he knew immediately that his timing was off and Tony only just managed to snatch him with one hand. He cried out as his fall ended with a harsh yank, his shoulder straining. 

“What the fuck was that?” Tony demanded, his face flushed and angry.

“I mistimed it,” Peter grit out, as if it should be obvious.

“That’s a rookie mistake,” Tony growled.

“I fucked up, I’m sorry!” He really wished that Tony would drop him down to the net already - the strain on his shoulder was really starting to hurt.

“And if you’d fucked up when we didn't have a net below us, you’d be dead!”

“But I’m not!”

“That’s not the point,” Tony roared.

“Lay off, Stark,” Brock snapped from above them.

“How ‘bout you keep your fucking nose out of business that’s not your concern?”

“You’ve been at it for hours - the kid’s exhausted.”

“And he needs to work on his stamina otherwise he’ll keep making mistakes.”

Now it was Peter who was angry. “This is the first one I’ve made since we’ve been working together. I’m sorry that I’m fucking human!” He wrenched his hand out of Tony’s grip and let himself fall to the net below and quickly scarpered across to the ladder. Ignoring the question on Christine’s lips, he grabbed his things and stormed out of the arena. 

He walked aimlessly through the corridors, not wanting to go to his cabin and be alone, but unsure of what he should do. He ended up in Bucky’s workshop, watching as the man cut planks of wood with a circular saw. It wasn’t long before Bucky noticed he was there and he flipped up the protective goggles he wore, his blue/grey eyes worried. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked.

Peter shrugged, not sure if he could explain, and then embarrassed himself entirely by bursting into tears. It was only a moment later that Bucky was there, pulling him close and holding him as he cried. “What is it? What’s happened?”

He didn’t know how to word how he was feeling. It came out in a series of hiccuping half sentences. “There’s a woman, doing a story on Tony. All over each other. And we had a fight. I made a mistake. He yelled. They’re going to sleep together.” He howled louder.

Bucky led him over to the battered old couch he had in the corner and pulled him down against him. “Shhh, it’ll be okay, sweetheart.”

“He’s mad at me!”

“He won’t be for long, doll.”

“It’s not even that he yelled,” Peter explained after another minute. “Adrian used to yell at me every second practise. I just hate that I’ve let him down. I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“Because you like him.” It wasn’t a question.

“Is it that obvious?” Peter mumbled against Bucky’s chest.

He felt the man shrug. “Probably not to everyone but I could tell that you liked him more than usual.”

Peter sniffed. “I can’t bear the thought of her hands on him,” he admitted miserably.

“It’s hard, watching someone you care about with someone else.”

“What can I do?”

“Not much I guess. The pain will lessen in time.”

“That’s really sucky advice,” Peter grumbled and then winced as his shoulder pulled.

“What have you done?” Bucky asked.

“I hurt my shoulder during rehearsal.”

“Right, well let’s get you strapped up, okay.”

Bucky was the group’s unofficial medic and kept a well stocked first aid kit in his workshop. He pulled out a roll of sticky medical tape and began to wind it around Peter’s shoulder, chest, and upper arm. By the time he was done, the joint was somewhat stabilised and hurt much less. He gave Peter two ibuprofen and strict instructions to rest for the remainder of the day. Peter chose to stay where he was, hanging out in the workshop, and Bucky was nice enough to leave to get him both lunch and dinner so he wouldn’t have to run into Tony and Christine in the mess. By the time Bucky was closing up the workshop later that night, Peter was feeling much calmer and he gave his friend a hug before he headed off into the snowy night to his cabin.

He’d almost reached it when he heard a giggle and he looked up to see Tony and Christine a little way in front of him, staggering up the path. He wasn’t sure if they were drunk or not, but Tony’s arm was wound around her waist, keeping her upright. Peter froze in his tracks, the air cold against his skin and watched as they made their way towards Tony’s cabin. Before the door shut, he saw Christine lean in towards Tony, and he closed his eyes, not wanting to see them kiss. Breathing hard and with a heavy heart, he continued walking towards his own cabin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gasp* There's trouble in paradise! Just remember, I believe in happy endings - the angst won't last forever!


	6. Chapter 6

Peter tossed and turned the entire night, not sleeping a wink. He refused to get up earlier than normal though, stubbornly trying to get some rest, if not some shut eye. He dressed and headed out, pausing as the scent of coffee wafted to him from Tony’s cabin. It was their routine now, for him to stop by and have coffee with Tony in the morning but he couldn’t, he just couldn’t today. Seeing Christine in Tony’s space, probably wearing his robe, her hair likely sex-mussed, it was just too much for him to handle. He veered off the path, heading towards the main building and he slipped inside to get a bite to eat. He wasn’t hungry but he knew that he’d have to have something to keep him going. 

Once he’d had a piece of toast, he debated what he should do next. His shoulder was still aching from yesterday and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to train today, no matter how angry Tony would be about that. He knew that he’d have to do something athletic but he didn’t feel quite up to running on the treadmill just yet so he decided to take the morning off and do something fun. He headed for the large cat enclosure. 

Steve was just feeding his babies when Peter arrived, tossing them chunks of meat that Geraldine caught delicately but Greg and Todd snapped out of the air with their sharp teeth. Knowing better than to interrupt feeding time, Peter perched on a crate and watched. Steve cooed over the animals, his eyes running over them as they ate, checking for injuries or anything wrong while they were relatively still. Once the meat was all gone, he tossed them each a large, fleshy bone and they happily began crunching on their treats, powerful jaws making short work of the bones.

“Hey, Pete,” Steve greeted him when he saw him. “What’s up?”

“I hurt my shoulder yesterday so I can’t train today. Figured I’d come hang out with the guys since I haven’t seen them for a while.”

“You’re in luck - today is their free day. They’d enjoy having someone to run with.”

Peter beamed. Twice a week, the compound was locked down with no one allowed in or out of any of the exterior gates. The three big cats were given several hours to roam the grounds, run free, and to frolic outside of their enclosure (another of Steve's stipulations. The original circus that they had belonged to had declawed them (speaking of it still caused Steve to get so angry that he had been known to shatter glasses if he was holding one) and they were tame enough that it was relatively safe for them to be outside. Steve always stayed with them and there had been no incidents as yet, but he was always grateful to have someone help watch them if they were free. Peter _loved_ playing with them, especially Todd. He was the one who enjoyed human company the most and he loved to tussle and tumble with his humans. Geraldine usually found somewhere high to perch, watching on indifferently, and Greg would run circuits of the yard, but Todd loved to play. 

“That would be great.”

“Okay, well they’ll finish their bones in about half an hour so while they’re doing that I gotta do some work in their enclosures and a few other chores so you can keep me company if you want.”

“Put me to work - I can’t do much heavy lifting but I can help out with some stuff.”

Never one to turn down help, Steve got him a broom and set him to sweeping the concrete floor of the office part of the building and emptying the bins. Afterwards, Peter washed out some of the large water dishes in the enclosure and Steve followed behind him carrying a large container of fresh water to refill them. By that time, the three big cats had finished gnawing on their bones and Steve whistled sharply twice. They were immediately at attention and crowding the exterior doorway to their pen.

Steve laughed. “You guys know what day it is, too, don’tcha? Okay then, come on - Pete’s gonna keep us company.” They crossed to the door and Peter stayed out of the way as Steve got the latch - in their excitement to get out, it would be too easy for one of them to bowl him over.

“They’re like giant puppies,” he laughed as they bolted outside and into the snow. 

“Giant puppies with sharp teeth,” Steve agreed with a grin. “I’ll go pace with Greg if you’re happy to stay here with these two?”

“Of course.” Peter watched Steve lope off after Greg and then turned to see Geraldine jumping up onto the dumpster next to the building, then onto the gutter and finally onto the roof. She stalked around the area and once she was satisfied that she wasn’t going to be disturbed, she flopped down to soak up the almost non-existent warmth of the faint sun. “Keep watch for us, girl,” Peter called to her and she flicked her tail at him, then he turned to see if he could see where Todd had gone. There was no sign of the large tiger but Peter knew that he wouldn't be far. He began to follow the tracks left in the snow and then his vision was full of orange and black and he was being tackled to the ground. The breath was forced from his lungs and he didn’t have a chance to take another before a long, rough tongue was licking over his face, a massive paw on his chest to prevent him from getting up. He spluttered and tried to turn his face away. “Ge’off me, you big beast,” he huffed, getting a mouth full of tiger tongue for his troubles. “Blurgh, you’re so gross!” 

Todd shifted a little, allowing him to catch his breath and wipe away the slobber from his face and then he pawed at Peter expectantly. When Peter didn’t do anything, he pawed again and then tried to dart away as Peter pounced at him. They went rolling in the snow, wrestling together, Todd easily getting the upper hand but never taking advantage. At one point he got his jaw around Peter’s upper arm but he never bit down hard, always just teasing. The first time they’d played together like this, he’d gotten a little too carried away and had drawn blood. Peter had never thought he’d see a tiger look guilty but Todd had slunk behind him for the next hour, his tail between his legs, butting his head against Peter’s legs. Anyone who said tigers were just dumb animals had _never_ met Todd before. 

They wrestled until Peter was breathless and then Todd slumped down on top of him, licking his face several times before he laid his head on his paws - which were on Peter’s chest - and they just snuggled together. The snow beneath Peter’s back was cold but the tiger on top of him was almost hot so they seemed to balance each other out and he was quite comfortable, even though he knew that he’d overdone things as his shoulder was aching quite badly. He waved lazily as Steve and Greg ran past them and then went back to scritching the top of Todd’s head.

After a while, Todd got restless again and he climbed off Peter and then nipped playfully at his hand and then darted off, only to skid in the snow, turn around and dart back in at him. Peter would try and grab hold of him but Todd always slipped from his grasp and would run off once more, only to come right back. Peter’s laughter echoed through the grounds and he was grinning like a mad man. 

Then Todd ran off and circled Peter instead, sneaking up behind him, hunting. Peter stayed very still, able to see Todd out of the very corner of his eye but not wanting to give the game away. He waited until Todd was close and he could picture the way the tiger would be crouched down low to the ground, bottom up in the air and tail twitching, then when he guessed that Todd was about to pounce, he turned around as fast as he could and lunged at the tiger.

Todd yowled and jumped high in the air in surprise and then darted off again, bounding high over the snow drifts. Peter deliberately turned his back again for another round, noting that Geraldine was watching the game intently. 

And then there was a cry, a shout of, “No!” and then Peter was being wrestled to the ground by something other than a tiger and it all got very confusing. Extra weight suddenly on top of him told him that Todd had joined the fray and he heard a voice - Tony’s voice - saying, “No, bad tiger! You do _not_ eat Peter!”

“Tony? What the hell are you doing?” he wheezed.

“The tiger, it was stalking you! It was going to eat you!”

“Really?” he asked, as patiently as possible. “And what exactly is the tiger doing now?”

“Um, he appears to be tasting your hand.”

“Not tasting, Tony - licking. Todd and I are playing.”

“Playing?”

“Yes, playing. Now would you please get off me so I can breathe?”

Tony shimmied off Peter and out from under Todd and then rolled until he was sitting on his butt, looking frazzled. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He sounded so genuinely worried that Peter couldn't be mad at him.

“Of course I am.”

“It’s just that you never showed for coffee this morning and no one knew where you were and it’s ‘Let the murder kitties out to terrorise the tributes of the Hunger Games’ day and I thought you were in danger, especially when I saw him stalking you and I really, really thought that you were about to get eaten!”

“Tony, I’m fine, honestly.”

“Then why didn't you show up for coffee? You always show up for coffee.”

“Yeah, well after yesterday I didn’t think you’d be happy to see me,” he said, rather frostily.

“Oh, yeah, about that - “ Tony looked bashful and he rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand. “I was going to apologise today about my behaviour yesterday. I didn't mean to be such a dick, I’m sorry.”

He hadn't been expecting an apology so he nodded, accepting it. “Okay, thanks, I appreciate that. Look, my shoulder is quite bad okay, so I’m not going to be able to rehearse today, and maybe not even tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay. Well, have you eaten? Do you want to get some breakfast?”

“I’ve eaten already, thanks.”

“Oh, right. Well, I’m going to head inside then I guess. My back is killing me from sleeping on the couch so I’m going to go and do some stretches. Seriously, those couches are torture devices, who the hell picked them out?”

Peter frowned. “You slept on the couch?”

“Uh, yeah.” Tony cocked his head, confused.

“Why didn't you sleep in your bed?”

“Because Christine was in it?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Even more reason that I thought you’d be in your bed.”

Tony scrunched up his nose. “Wait, you think that I _slept with her?”_

He was blushing but he soldiered on. “Obviously. You two were flirting like crazy.”

“Flirting is kind of what I do, Pete, but it doesn't mean that I would sleep with her.”

“Then why did she stay with you? Surely she would have had a hotel booked so why not use it?”

“We had a few glasses of wine at dinner and she didn't want the hassle of leaving her car here and getting a taxi back to her hotel and then having to get one again to come back.”

“Uh huh, sure. She was totally trying to get in your pants!”

“Probably, but I didn't let her.”

Peter stroked the warm fur of the back of Todd’s neck, unable to look at Tony as he asked, “Did you kiss her?”

“Why do you care?”

“Just answer the question!”

“No, Pete, I did _not_ kiss her. She tried to kiss me when we got back to the cabin but I dodged her. I’m pretty good at fending off unwanted advances.” He reached up and placed a gentle finger under Peter’s chin, turning his face so their eyes met. “Why has it gotten you so upset?”

There was no way that Peter could tell the truth. “I just worry about how she’ll portray you in her article if you reject her, that’s all.”

It was obvious that Tony didn’t believe him but he accepted it anyway. “I don’t really care how she portrays me, Pete. She’s not the first person I’ve rejected and she won’t be the last.”

Peter really needed to just shut up but his mouth was opening without his consent. “Why didn't you like her? She’s really hot.”

“Yeah, well, as much as Pepper likes to tease me about being a womaniser, that’s as far from the truth as you can get these days.”

“Really? Why, what changed?” The tabloids had been full in the past about the different women that Tony had on his arm each night.

It was Tony’s turn to blush, something that Peter didn’t think that he was capable of. “Ah, I kind of had the epiphany that I’m gay...”

Peter’s jaw dropped open in shock. “What?”

“Yep, only took me thirty five years to realise I liked cock and for the past twelve years I’ve not slept with a single woman.”

“Huh.”

“So, are you coming inside or not?” Tony asked, mercifully changing the subject.

“Um, not just yet. Steve is still running with Greg so I’m watching Todd and Geraldine.”

“Wait, you’re watching the panther too? Where is she?”

Peter pointed upwards to where Geraldine was perched, watching them.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Tony swore and scrambled to his feet. “Okay, that’s enough murder kitties for me today, I’m manfully retreating inside.” He staggered back a few steps and then paused. “Will I catch you later? Today I mean? Will I see you?”

Peter had a lot to think about, and as upset as he’d been with Tony yesterday, most of it appeared to be unfounded. Perhaps it was time to man up and get over it. “Sure. How ‘bout we meet for lunch?”

Tony smiled and it was dazzling. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll uh, see you then. Bye, Pete. Um, bye, murder kitties.” He waved and then made his way along the path towards the main building, leaving a puzzled Peter behind.

A moment later there was another shriek from Tony and soon afterwards Greg and a laughing Steve appeared on the path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am well away that tigers, even domesticated ones, would try to eat you if given the chance but let's just pretend for now, okay? Fiction is about suspending disbelief.


	7. Chapter 7

Christine joined them for lunch but now that Peter had knowledge that he didn't have previously, it was much easier to see Tony’s flirting for what it was - harmless. In fact, now that Peter thought about it, he’d noticed that Tony acted that way towards the ladies who worked in the mess, to Pepper, and to the guys who worked on Bucky’s team, building sets and props. He’d even flirted quite a bit with Peter. The only downside to that was that since he did it with everyone, Peter couldn't feel special for the treatment since it was a blanket approach. Just the fact that Christine wasn’t in any way special definitely took the sting out of that realisation however.

They spent the afternoon working on the soundtrack for their routine because of Peter’s shoulder and also throwing around ideas for the lighting. In one way it was nice - chatting and exchanging ideas, but the downside was that there was no physical distance between Christine and Tony. She hadn't really gotten the memo that Tony wasn’t interested and continued to touch him whenever possible and invade his personal space. It was easy now to see how uncomfortable that made Tony and so Peter tried to put himself between the two of them whenever he could. Tony realised what he was doing and gave him warm smiles each time and it definitely wasn’t Peter’s imagination that he touched Peter more and more as the day went on. It began with small incidents - a touch to the hand or arm in agreement or to highlight a point he was making but by the end of the day it was more - an arm across the shoulder or to the small of Peter’s back. At one point he even reached up and brushed an errant lock of hair from Peter’s face.

It was all very confusing and despite his best efforts not to get his hopes up, Peter’s heart simply didn't get the message. Everytime Tony touched him, his heart rate would increase, his breathing would speed up, and he had to force himself not to lean into the touch. When they had to talk to Brock about the lighting, he noticed how Tony almost glared at the man, especially when he complimented Peter and he simply couldn’t work out if Tony just didn't like the guy or if he didn't like Brock _liking_ Peter. 

None of this escaped Christine’s notice and it pissed her off. By the time Tony bid her farewell when her time with them had come to an end, she was shooting Peter daggers and scowling at Tony. When Peter cringed after she was gone and worried about what horrible things she would publish about him, Tony just laughed and threw an arm around his shoulder, telling him not to stress and he’d had worse. Then they went back to Tony’s cabin and watched the original Star Trek movie and the day ended much better than it began. 

It took three days for Peter’s shoulder to ease enough for him to be able to hit the fly bar again and despite getting along better than ever after their fight, there was a small voice of doubt in the back of his head, telling him that he was going to disappoint Tony and upset him again. He was tense as he entered the arena, trying to ignore the slew of worst case scenarios flicking through his brain. He stripped out of his clothes down to his tights and headed to the bench to grab some tape, then jumped a mile as warm hands fell onto his shoulders.

“You’ve got more knots than a pirate ship,” Tony admonished as he began to knead his shoulders.

A low moan escaped Peter’s lips at the divine feeling of the massage and slowly his muscles relaxed as Tony worked out the kinks. “Holy shit, that feels amazing,” he murmured. Tony’s hands were so strong, so sure, and so _warm_ and Peter wanted them on him forever, and in very different places. 

“You have _got_ to take better care of yourself, Pete,” Tony chided. “If you’re this tense all the time it’s not wonder you got injured. I’ll have Pepper arrange for a masseuse to visit. We’ll get you into tip top shape in no time.”

“You don't have to waste the money,” Peter said, wanting to add that Tony could just massage him but not being quite brave enough. 

“Nonsense, it’s not a waste of money. Besides, I’ll get one as well so it’s really benefiting me as well.” The image of Tony, naked and oily flashed before his eyes and Peter moaned again. “Did I hit a knot?” Tony asked, working the spot he was on harder, almost painfully.

“Uh, yeah, but I uh, think you got it.” Peter welcomed the pain, since his dick had rather liked the image his brain had conjured and since lycra did _nothing_ to hide an erection, he'd needed some help chasing it away.

All too soon the massage was over and Tony’s hand were gone. “Feel better?”

“Much, thanks.” And he did, he really did. He’d been fascinated by Tony’s hands already but he now had an even greater appreciation for them. His tension was gone and so was his worry. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Tony agreed with a wink, and they wrapped their hands with tape.

If there was even a shred of doubt remaining, it vanished as soon as their hands collided in the air, Tony’s hands wrapping around Peter’s wrists and hoisting him up and into a flip. He twisted and weaved through the air and as Tony caught him again, their eyes met and once again the intense focus that his partner had for him took Peter’s breath away. It was a heady rush and he’d never quite experienced anything like it.

The paced out their routines (their main routine and then the shorter, more dangerous net-free act) and found that their main act went a little longer than the twenty minutes that they were allocated and so they ran through it again and again, working out what moves they could drop. Once they were happy with them, they ran through them both once more and then Tony called a stop to their practice when he noticed Peter grimacing. 

“I’m okay,” Peter protested. “I can go another round.”

“Yeah, no - I’m calling it,” Tony insisted. “Let’s try not to break you, okay?”

Peter frowned but finally nodded. 

“Hey, you did good, Pete.” Yet again, an arm slipped over his shoulder and Peter shivered at the skin on skin contact. There were definitely perks to having to wear shiny lycra tights for work. “You seriously blow me away with how talented you are. You’re going to go a long way in this business.”

“Thanks, but we both know that I’m never going to be as good as you.”

“You’re going to be _better_ , Pete, I know it.”

Tony said it with such surety that Peter found himself believing that maybe, just maybe, he could be too.

oOoOo

The troupe gathered around on the audience benches in the arena, an excited buzz going through them. They’d all been working on their acts and today was the day that they ‘presented to the class’, as Fury liked to put it. Peter was sure that he had secret aspirations to be a school teacher, which was both hilarious and terrifying, so he kept that thought to himself. No need to invite the wrath of his ringmaster.

Jordan - the Make-A-Wish recipient - was seated on Tony’s lap, an excited grin on his face, and his parents sat to one side, both of them smiling through their tears. Nestled next to Tony’s hip was Jordan’s oxygen tank and Peter could hear how he struggled to breathe. Tony whispered into Jordan’s ear, making him grin even harder and he hugged the boy a little closer to him. His eyes met Peter’s and the sorrow that Peter felt was reflected back at him in Tony’s eyes. Jordan was only eight, two months shy of his ninth birthday - which he likely wouldn’t get to celebrate. It was heartbreaking and Peter’s respect for Tony increased again, something that he didn't think was possible. Seeing the awe and wonder on Jordan’s face and knowing that he was a part of that made Peter’s heart ache in a way that it never had before.

Peter’s attention was drawn to the ring as the acts began. Quill and Scott were up first and they had decided to build on the warning from _The Incredibles_ of ‘no capes!’. They both had billowing yellow capes which they wore through their performance, getting into more and more dangerous situations, making everyone howl with laughter. They got to the end and Lang announced, “And this space here -” He gestured with his hands to the empty ground next to him, “will have a wood chipper in it!”

From his place on the other side of Peter, Bucky groaned and buried his face in his hands. Peter patted his knee consolingly.

Sam hit the trampolines next and Peter found his attention slipping away from him, drawn to the man on his left. Jordan’s eyes were wide as he stared at the trampoline and the man bouncing high above it, and Tony was watching him with a gentle smile on his face. His eyes were glistening with unshed tears and it occurred to Peter how selfless Tony actually was. Pepper had told Peter that Tony sometimes granted up to three wishes a year and so he’d helped bring joy and connected to countless kids - none of which had survived. There was no way that that wouldn’t take a heavy emotional toll on Tony and yet he did it, again and again, because the kids had requested to spend the day with him. Peter shifted slightly closer to Tony until their shoulders brushed and he gently nudged his partner, letting him know silently that he was there for him. Tony smiled and a tear escaped, running silently down his face. Peter reached over and gently brushed it away, and then turned back to watch Sam finish up, giving Tony what little privacy he could.

Stephen had a powerpoint presentation of what his performance would involve as he was still working behind the scenes on his illusions. He also ran over the ideas for Peter and Tony’s act, and if he managed to pull it off, it was going to be epic. Peter couldn’t wait.

Then it was their turn and Tony gently handed Jordan over to his dad and then they were making their way over to their ladders, climbing up to their boards. From across the distance, Tony grinned at him and gave a thumbs up, which Peter returned. Very few people had seen much of their performance at all, and besides Brock and Christine, no one had seen it from start to finish. Peter took a deep breath, grabbed his fly bar and looked over to Tony once more. “Ready!” he called.

Tony was already holding the catch bar and he nodded. “Ready!”

Then Peter was flying and he felt exactly like a superhero.

They got through their main performance flawlessly and once they were on the ground, they took a few minutes to explain what sets they would have, how Stephen’s illusions would work into it, and other effects they would use. The troupe were all grinning and murmuring to one another in excitement. 

“The next part will be net-free on the night,” Peter explained, but it was too much work right now to remove the net when it would be needed for Wanda and Vis with the tightrope. He held up a pair of white silks, both with small weights attached at one end so he could throw them more efficiently. “We’re hoping that we’ll soon have something more web like developed but for now, you need to use your imagination and pretend that these are webs,” he told them all with a grin.

With that, they headed back up to their boards and Peter took a deep breath. This was far more difficult than their main performance, and much, much more dangerous, even without being net-free. He wound the silks around his wrists and then coiled the remaining material up, keeping it out of the way until he needed it. After an exchange of Ready calls, he was once more swinging through the air on his fly bar and then he was flipping, hooking his knees over the bar and dangling with his arms free. Tony joined him, swinging in tandem and he too soon had his knees hooked over his bar. 

“Hup!” Tony cried, and Peter flung the silks towards him.

Tony caught the weighted materials and used the weights as an anchor to hold on. It took a split second and Peter put his trust in Tony completely as he allowed himself to flip off the fly bar and fall through the air. If Tony didn't have a good grip on them, today he would fall to the net. On the night, he would fall to the ground.

It was a long way down.

The silks pulled tight, and then Peter was spinning and arching gracefully, twirling around the silks like a spider. It was poetry in motion and he and Tony were so focused on one another that the entire world fell away until it was simply the two of them. They breathed as one, moved as one, and Peter felt like they _were_ one. It was then that he realised that this was no longer a crush.

He was in love.

Fuck.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is only short but it's a little heavy.

The following morning, Peter was still riding the high of a well executed performance. Tony was a little more subdued after having to bid Jordan farewell, but each time he met Peter’s eye over the breakfast table, he broke out into a grin. It might be early days yet but Peter was confident that this season would be his best ever with The Avengers. 

Pepper appeared in the mess hall, carrying a newspaper and Peter did a double take. He’d never seen the PA with anything but the latest technology before. She gave him a smile and murmured, “Good morning, Peter,” before sitting down next to him, opposite Tony. “We have a problem,” she said bluntly, getting right to the point.

“Oh?” Tony’s voice was calm but there was a wary glint in his eyes.

She threw the paper down on the table and Tony picked it up and stared at whatever article was on the page for a long time. Finally, he folded the paper, tossed it back down and shrugged. “No problem of mine.”

Pepper frowned. “Tony, this is proof!”

“And?”

“And so we can use this to take him down?”

“And what will that solve?”

She groaned in frustration, a very unladylike sound that Peter didn't usually associate with her. “Tony, please - I really think this is something that you need to do.”

Curious, Peter inched his hand forward until he could grab the paper and see for himself what the article was about. It was in the Technology section and was about the latest release of a tablet computer by Hammer Industries. 

It looked exactly like the one that Tony used. The one that Tony _built_.

“Tony, this is yours!” Peter cried in indignation.

Pepper gestured to Peter as if to say, _‘See!’_

“No, it’s not,” Tony argued. “It’s Hammer Tech’s latest release.”

“But it’s _your_ design - how did they get it?” he asked.

Pepper’s lips pressed together into a thin line and when the silence stretched out long enough to indicate that he wasn’t going to be forthcoming with an answer, she replied with, _“Someone_ who Tony trusted very much _stole_ the plans off him and sold them to the highest bidder.”

“But who would - _oh!”_ It suddenly clicked into place for Peter. The ringmaster of The Iron Circus, Obidiah Stane, the long time family friend who took Tony in after the falling out with his father. The same man who Tony was actively avoiding now. “Oh, Tony, I’m so sorry.”

Tony’s face was blank and he gave a small shake of his head. “It really doesn’t matter - what’s done is done and I’m tired of fighting with him. It won’t accomplish anything.”

“Except to punish him for taking advantage of you and stealing your intellectual property!” Pepper protested. 

Tony looked so, so tired and Peter’s heart went out to him. “Pep, please, just leave it. I just want to move on, okay. I don’t ever want to have to see Ob - _that man_ \- again, and I don’t want to speak to him, and I don’t him to friend me on Facebook. I’ve amputated that diseased part of my life off at the knee and now I just want to heal and to move on. Is that too much to ask?”

She sighed and then nodded. “Okay, fine, I understand.” She picked the newspaper up and hid it away in her bag, out of sight and out of mind. “So, how did things go with Jordan yesterday?”

oOoOo

Tony was a little withdrawn for the rest of the day but he still made an effort with Peter. After dinner he invited him in for a drink and there was no way that Peter was going to decline that. He really thought that even though Tony didn’t want to take legal action against Stane, he probably needed to talk about his feelings of betrayal. Considering what had gone down with Toomes, Peter figured that he wouldn’t only be sympathetic but also empathetic. So he accepted the glass of whiskey that Tony offered him, even though he was more of a beer guy, and they proceeded to get rather tipsy together. They were ahead of the eight ball in terms of their routine and so a late start to the morning while they nursed hangovers wasn’t going to be a problem.

They chatted idly about a variety of things - from Peter’s love of chemistry, to which was better, cats or dogs (Peter replied with ‘tigers’), to Kirk’s most risque alien hookup, even debating the merits of rice and chicken being in the same dish. It was fun and relaxing and Peter totally wasn’t imagining the way that they were slowly moving closer and closer to one another on the couch as the night progressed. When Tony handed over his fourth glass of whiskey and then plopped himself down on the couch so close that his thigh was pressed against Peter’s, he even began to hope that maybe, just _maybe_ , his attraction wasn’t entirely one way.

Then Tony let his eyes close as he leaned his head against the backrest and he looked so _sad_ that Peter had to speak up. He took a fortifying gulp of his drink and then asked quietly, “You wanna talk about it?”

“God no,” Tony groaned.

Peter nodded, even though Tony still had his eyes closed and wouldn’t see. “Okay. Do you mind if _I_ talk?”

“Sure thing, knock yourself out.”

“My parents died when I was seven. It was a car accident and I was in the back at the time. We were on the way back from a gymnastics competition and I was asleep. Apparently that’s what saved my life - being so relaxed and at the rear of the car. The dash was almost in the back seat with me after the truck hit.” 

Tony’s eyes had snapped open and he was staring at Peter in horror. “Jesus, Pete, I’m so sorry.”

Peter plowed on. “Dad was killed instantly, but Mom lasted until the next day. I was allowed to leave my hospital room to go and say goodbye to her. She wasn’t conscious but my aunt and uncle were there and May said, "She’d want you to have this," and she took the locket that Mom always wore from around her neck and placed it into my hand. It was almost like Mom was holding out for that because a breath later, she was gone.” He wiped at his eyes, the pain in his chest at reliving the memory just as sharp as ever. “I lived with May and Ben after that but when I was fourteen there was a fire. I wasn’t at home at the time, and they both died. All I had left were the clothes on my back and the locket around my neck.” He glanced over to Tony and saw his warm eyes full of sympathy. “Adrian was the first person that I ever told about the locket. I hated taking it off, even when we had to perform but, you know, safety and all that. We were on the road at the time and so I would keep it locked away in my dressing room and one day, I couldn’t find it. I was freaking out and he offered to help me look and we tore that dressing room apart. By the end, when we had looked in and under everything, when we’d searched every corner, every nook, and it was clear it wasn’t there, he held me as a cried. 

“I bawled my eyes out for _hours_ and he was there the entire time, holding me and promising that he’d never stop looking for that locket, that it would turn up eventually.” He gave a humourless smile. “Turns out that it was Adrian who had taken it, sold it to the highest bidder, along with all the other personal items that went missing from all of us. We’d thought that some of our deranged fans were sneaking past security and ransacking our dressing rooms but it was my friend, my _mentor,_ the entire time.” He sniffed and wiped the tears from his cheek. “I know it’s not the same, but I _know_ how it feels, Tony, to be betrayed like that by someone that you thought cared about you. You don’t ever have to talk about it if you don’t want, but I want you to know that I know, and that I’m here if you ever do want to talk, or if you need company while you distract yourself from thinking about it, or if you just want to just drunk.” He raised his glass in a toast. “I’m here, okay.”

Tony’s eyes were glistening but no tears fell. He nodded and then leaned his head against Peter’s shoulder, accepting the silent support that was being offered. Peter let his eyes close and then blindly groped out, finding Tony’s hand and clasping it in his. A short while later, Tony’s glass fell from his lax hand and thunked to the ground but neither of them stirred, already both asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess short, angsty chapters with heavy conversation aren't that popular. I hope you all like this one better.

The weeks passed and Peter noticed a shift in Tony. He seemed lighter, more relaxed, and he smiled more openly. Even when Hammer Tech were nominated for a T3 Award for the very tablet that Tony had designed, he just laughed and shrugged it off, genuinely not seeming upset. It was as if simply opening up about what had happened had released the weight that he was carrying and Peter was glad that he had pushed. 

They became even closer and Ned even teased that he’d been replaced as Peter’s best friend. Since he was head over heels for Carol’s assistant, Betty, he wasn’t actually upset, and confessed that he was glad that Peter had someone to hang with when he was busy. Peter had laughed along with Ned but later that night, he contemplated his words. He hadn’t _replaced_ Ned - no one ever would - but Tony was definitely up there in the friend department. Some people had more than one best friend and he decided that perhaps he’d joined their ranks.

Of course, he still wished that he and Tony could be more than just friends. Peter had accepted that he was genuinely in love with Tony and although above all else he just wanted Tony to be happy, he really, _really_ wanted to be the one that made him happy. It was a pipe dream though and he knew it so he contented himself with what he had and enjoyed not only the friendship that they had, but also the amazing chemistry that they shared up on the bars.

Their performance only got better and better the more that they rehearsed. Stephen had finished his illusion - a monstrous thing that he called Dormammu - and not matter how many times Peter pleaded, begged, and cajoled, he refused to explain how he did it. Peter pouted a lot, and although it didn't work on Stephen, it worked on Tony. One day, after they’d finished their rehearsal and they were alone in the arena, Tony pointed out the hidden projectors and crystals that bounced light back and forth, creating the illusion of a monster. He held a finger up to his lips, whispered, “Shhh, you didn't hear it from me,” and then he slipped an arm over Peter’s shoulders and led him off in the search of coffee.

As more and more of the entire troupe’s Superhero themed act came together, it was common for the arena to be packed when the two were rehearsing. As Peter flew through the air, Tony’s strong arms reaching for him, he would catch movement far below them. Ned performed feats of bravery, using his strength to rescue hapless civilians; Todd, Greg, and Geraldine shed their murder kitty personas and became rescue kitties instead, tiny capes fluttering above their shoulders as they saved the day; Sam would bounce high into the air on the trampolines, soaring almost as high as Peter and Tony did; and Fury presided over it all, weaving stories and telling tales of death defying feats to awe and wow their future audience. 

More often than not, Peter and Tony would drop to the nets after they were done to the sound of applause and Peter would find that most everyone had stopped what they were doing so that they could watch the two of them perform. It always made him blush - Peter was pretty good at accepting accolades from a faceless audience, but when it came from his peers, it touched him deeply. All his life, he had never felt like he belonged, having the ones he loved snatched away from him before their time, but these people here were now his family, and he felt a sense of belonging that was overwhelming at times. If Todd was there, Peter would bury his face in his fur, hiding his crimson cheeks, which usually ended with the tiger wrestling him to the ground and licking the sweat from his face, much to Steve’s amusement, and Tony’s horror ( _“He’s tasting you, I swear!”_ ).

By the time that they were six weeks out from the season kicking off, Tony was cemented as an Avenger and no one ever mentioned Adrian anymore. Peter still felt the odd pang of sadness when thoughts of his old partner flickered through his mind, but that happened less and less as he got closer and closer with Tony. Even without the entire theft fiasco, if Peter had been asked to choose, he’d choose Tony each and every time. They worked together so seamlessly, so in sync, that he knew that he’d never have this again, with anyone. It simply wasn’t possible. It helped that Tony was so accepted by the troupe, and dinner in the mess was always full of the sound of banter and laughter, of happiness. 

Of course, being part of the family also meant that Tony wasn’t spared any of the traditional ribbing that came with that and so when Christine’s article was published (so scathing and mean that anyone with eyes could tell that it was personal), Tony was forced to sit and listen as Sam climbed on top of one of the tables and read the entire thing to everyone present.

“Gather round, children, for storytime!” Sam announced, and Tony rolled his eyes and leaned his elbows on the table, chin in his hand, and he batted his eyelashes up at Sam. “Open your ears and listen to the tale of a woman scorned.”

There was laughter at that, but it was friendly. Peter hadn’t been the only one to think that there had been something going on between Tony and Christine and after several comments asking if he was going to keep seeing her, Tony had shared his sexuality with the group and set them to rights. Everyone had found the entire situation even funnier after that, all except Bucky, who knew how Peter felt, and recognised the possibilities now, however unlikely they were. When he caught Peter looking longingly at Tony, he would give him a supportive hug and quiet advice, a safety net for Peter’s emotions.

Sam read the article in a dramatic voice and certain parts of it were so good, that he felt the need to repeat them. _“Stark is narcissistic, egotistical, and arrogant. I do not deny that he has the talent to justify this, however his interpersonal skills are of the poorest quality. I witnessed first hand his young protege, Peter Parker, flee a training session in tears after Stark brutally tore into him after a simple mistake. With his sweet disposition, happy-go-lucky nature, and boundless enthusiasm, Parker is as different to Stark as chalk is to cheese and one must wonder how long their working relationship will last if he is continued to be treated like dirt.”_

Peter groaned and hid his face in his hand and ignored the heckles shouted at him by Clint about his ‘sweet disposition’. He was surprised that Christine painted him as the damsel in distress since she’d not been happy with the way he’d put himself between Tony and her efforts to get into bed with him, though he could see the intent behind it. Being a gymnast wasn’t exactly the most macho job in the world and she’d essentially tried to emasculate him. Luckily Peter didn't really care.

“Well, that makes me feel even worse,” he heard Tony murmur from next to him and a glance over told him that he was brooding about the article.

“No, Tony, no, don’t! You apologised and it’s nowhere near as bad as she made it out to be,” he assured him.

“I was still an ass.”

Peter reached over and squeezed his hand. “And I’m not a china doll - Adrian said worse to me on a regular basis.”

 _“Stark’s quarters are amongst the most lavish on the grounds,”_ Sam continued. _“While the rest of The Avengers Troupe reside in tiny cabins that are hardly better than squalor, Stark lives in the sort of luxury only found in a five star hotel. The resentment felt towards him by his teammates is clear in the way that they glare at him, yet Stark has instilled such a sense of fear, that none are brave enough to speak up.”_ That was too much for Sam and he burst out laughing. “Oh, man - this bird is totally delusional. You’re as terrifying as a damn kitten, man.”

“Gee, thanks,” Tony drawled, but he looked happy that no one was taking it seriously.

“Since you have five star quarters, I propose that the next movie night is held in your cabin,” Natasha said with a wink.

“You’re welcome anytime, Tasha,” Tony told her sincerely.

“This is all the dribble I can handle for one day,” Sam announced, crumpling the article into a ball and jumping down from the table. “I can’t wait to see her face when her next request for an interview with any of us is denied.”

“I can’t wait to see her face when _Pepper_ is through with her,” Peter said.

“Ooooh!” There were shouts of joy from the crowd, all of them familiar with how fierce Pepper Potts could be when someone attacked one of her loved ones. 

“And on that note, I think we’re done,” Tony announced, laughing. He stood up and hooked a thumb over his shoulder, addressing Peter. “We’re gonna be late for our appointment,” he said.

Peter was on his feet in an instant, already anticipating what was to come. Their thrice weekly massage session had fast become his favourite parts of the week, and not only because Clarissa beat his muscles into submission. If Peter was honest with himself, it was mostly the tiny black boxer briefs that Tony wore for the session - and nothing else. He saw the man half dressed, wearing only skin tight lycra most days but for some reason the sight of his bare legs was enough to cause Peter’s pulse to race. The fact that Tony insisted the tables be set up in the living area of his cabin so that they could be side by side added an intimacy to the entire thing that often caused Peter to have to pretend to be asleep at the end so he could wait until his erection had subsided before climbing off the table. It was glorious torture. 

Unfortunately he had no time to waste today after the massage ended as he and Tony had decided to hit the bars earlier than usual to practise their second act. It was shorter than the main one but as it was performed net free, they had to be able to perform it perfectly. They’d gotten to the point where they’d gone two weeks without a mistake and so this week they had begun to practise without the safety net waiting below. It was always exhilarating and Peter had often found himself shaking prior to such performances in the past, half excited, half terrified before the adrenaline rush kicked in and he put his trust in his catcher. With Tony, that feeling was missing. Peter trusted him so absolutely that he had been calm and focussed the first time he climbed to the fly bar with nothing but air beneath him and the ground. He’d met Tony’s eyes, smiled, and then he was flying and he let go without a single doubt in his heart, knowing that Tony would be there, that he would catch him. 

The arena was packed with almost all of the troupe, lunch being over and done with and a long afternoon of rehearsals ahead of them. Peter took a moment to greet Todd, running his hands through thick fur and accepting a lick to the face, then giving Steve a hug and wiping the tiger’s saliva all over his cheek. 

“Bastard,” Steve laughed, jerking away and wiping his face.

Peter grinned and danced away before Steve could retaliate, putting Ned between them.

“I’m not your personal bouncer,” Ned griped playfully, and reached behind to grab Peter and shove him towards Steve who gave him a noogie. 

“Now, now, children,” Tony chided, his eyes twinkling with mirth, “I’m terribly busy and important so may I please have my partner back? You may not have heard but he has a delicate disposition.”

Peter managed to give him the finger as he pulled out of Steve’s grip and Tony stuck his tongue out at him. It was so playful and fun, everyone around them bantering and helping each other with a smile on their face that Peter was overcome with love for his Avengers family. It was too much and his throat grew tight and he had to turn away and take a deep breath.

“You okay?” Tony asked quietly, a warm hand coming to settle against Peter’s neck.

“Yeah,” he croaked. “Just happy, y’know?”

Tony’s eyes were warm and his smile soft as he looked around at the people around them, the ring and the hightop, and nodded. “Yeah, yeah I do.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as if he was struggling with the words in his throat. “Nothing makes me happier than you,” he finally said.

Peter’s heart stopped for a moment, giving that declaration the moment in time that it needed to be appreciated. The world seemed to grind to a halt, and the only thing that was real was Tony standing next to him. The sounds of their teammates dimmed into the background, nothing else registered in Peter’s periphery, his entire world was honed in on his partner and the words he’d just uttered. Tony cared about him, enjoyed being around him, and if the rosy blush on his cheeks meant what Peter thought it meant, he felt the same way about Peter as Peter did for him.

Peter reached out and squeezed Tony’s hand, not wanting to show any more affection than that before they had some privacy but needing to acknowledge the statement. “And nothing makes _me_ happier than _you.”_

Tony beamed at him but then Natasha hustled past them and Fury was calling out to Bucky and the world seemed to rush back in around them, breaking the bubble of solitude that they’d formed around them. “Back to work I guess,” Peter said a little bashfully.

“I guess,” Tony agreed, “but we’re going to be revisiting this conversation later.” 

It was a promise.

“Deal.”

They taped up and Peter shot up the ladder, feeling light and carefree, eager to begin so they could finish and have that conversation. As soon as his feet hit the board however, he pushed those thoughts from his mind, breathed deeply, focussing only on Tony across from him and the first move of their routine. Distraction was dangerous and he wasn’t going to put either of them in danger simply because he was swooning like a teenager. He clipped the mechanisms that he, Tony, and Bucky had come up with to house his spider webs to his wrist (his ‘web slingers’ Bucky called them) and gave them a test, making sure that they worked. A shiny white substance shot from the mechanisms, attaching itself to the railing and a tug proved that it was just as strong as it always had been. He was good to go. 

“Ready!” he called.

“Ready!” Tony answered.

Peter jumped into the air, his hands tight around the fly bar, his body arching gracefully. He performed several flips and twists and then signalled that he was ready again. He saw Tony’s muscles flex as he swung down off his own board, catch bar held tight, and he swung down in a counterpoint to Peter. They both flipped in tandem, hooking their legs over their respective bars, ready for the first catch. 

“Hup!” Tony called and Peter shot a web towards him, and it wrapped around Tony’s wrist. With trust in his eyes and faith in his heart, he let go of his fly bar and swung through the air, attached only to Tony by the thin webbing. He felt it pull tight and hold fast and he felt a laugh bubble up, overjoyed at how their plan had come together. This felt like true flying, and his heart soared.

And then there was a lurch and he saw one of the chains of Tony’s catch bar snap and they were violently jerked sideways. It was too much and he felt his hands slip from the webbing.

 _“Peter!”_ Tony screamed, reaching for him but he couldn't reach far enough.

Peter kept his eyes on Tony as he plummeted downwards - if this was the last thing that he ever saw, then he wanted it to be Tony.

His world went dark.


	10. Chapter 10

The first thing that Peter became aware of was a low, husky voice, murmuring constantly to him. His head was too foggy to make out the words but the low hum was comforting and he tried to focus on it, to use it to tether him to the waking world.

His body had other plans and he fell back into the dark depths of unconsciousness.

The second time he became aware, the voice was still there and he concentrated on it, let it pull him closer to the surface and he finally managed to breach it, his eyes fluttering open and the world solidifying around him. It was Tony by his bedside (it was and _always would be_ Tony) and he held one of Peter’s hands in a gentle grasp and he was chatting idly, his eyes on their joined hands. He didn't seem to notice that Peter was awake and Peter let him speak, enjoying the way that his words washed over him.

“...and it’s been hard, not being close to him since he’s my best friend and I kind of left him in the lion’s den but Rhodey is stubborn and no matter how much I begged him to come with me, he said that he didn't want to leave a job unfinished. It probably makes me a bad best friend but as much as I miss him and I do miss working with him, I’m also glad that he _didn’t_ come because I get to work with you - not that if he’d come that he’d have replaced you, and I don’t know how it would have worked but it didn’t pan out that way so I’m just digressing for no reason - but anyway, working with you has been the best thing that has ever happened to me, I hope you know that. Actually, just meeting you in general is the best thing to have ever happened to me. You have no idea how much I care about you, Pete. Fuck, it’s pathetic how head over heels I am for you, especially since you’re young and talented and funny and smart and absolutely gorgeous and I’m just an old has-been and you could do so much better and -”

Peter decided it was time to cut him off before it turned into a self deprecating rant. “You are _not_ an old has-been, Tony so just shush,” he croaked.

Tony’s eyes shot up to meet his and he was immediately on his feet so he could be even closer to the bed than he had been. “You’re awake! Fuck, Peter, you scared me so much, I thought I’d lost you!”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” Peter replied automatically but then he vaguely recalled what had happened. “I fell,” he said slowly, then looked around the room. “I shouldn’t even be here...wait, where am I exactly?”

“You’re in the first aid room - we’ve just added a few bits and pieces to make it more like a hospital room.”

“Oh, so I guess I wasn’t too badly injured then if I’m not in hospital.”

“Erm, no...you were hurt pretty bad, Pete.”

He frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Well, Todd wouldn’t let the paramedics get you in the ambulance and they were freaking out thinking that they would be kitty kibble but he wouldn’t leave your side and no hospital worth their salt is going to let a tiger in so I decided that it might be best if I bring the hospital to you.”

“How?”

Tony shrugged and looked embarrassed. “I learned from my dad that if you throw enough money at something, there’s nothing that can’t happen. The money from the sale of the company has just been sitting there this whole time, earning interest - I figured that this was a good way to spend some of it. Within an hour I had Helen Cho, the best doc I know, here and looking after you and after two hours she had everything that she’d have had at any of the top hospitals. She’s not overly happy about Todd and to be honest, neither am I but I stay on this side and he stays on that side and we’ve come to a truce.”

“Wait, Todd’s _here?”_

Tony pointed to the other side of the bed. “Yeah, there. He hasn’t moved since the accident.”

Peter peered over the side of the bed, being careful of his IV line, and sure enough, the floor below was taken up with two hundred and fifty pounds of murder kitty. Todd was busy licking his paw but when he saw Peter’s face he stretched up, managed to just reach to lick a stripe up Peter’s cheek, and then he settled down and went back to his paw. “Wow. How long has it been?”

“About twenty eight hours I guess.”

Peter just stared at him. “What?”

“Yeah, I know - Steve has had to bring in the tiger equivalent of a litter tray three times now and Helen has _not_ been happy about the raw meat in here.”

“No, I meant I’m surprised I was out for so long. I don’t really know what happened.”

“Should I just start from the beginning?” Tony asked. 

“Um, yeah, if you could.” Peter couldn't understand how he wasn’t dead after falling forty feet and was curious as to how he’d survived.

Tony sat back down and then took a moment, trying to figure out where to start. He rubbed absently at Peter’s hand, then began to explain. “So, we’re pretty sure it was sabotage,” he said, scowling. “Meant for me, not you, by the way. A bucket of dry ice was found up on the catwalk afterwards and it appears that someone was freezing the chains. If they’d had time to do both of them, they probably would have snapped as soon as I took off, but as it was, with just one side tampered with, it held up until your weight was added to mine. The chain snapped and then you slipped.” His voice cracked and his eyes met Peter’s, full of horror and pain. “I tried to grab you but you were already gone. You were falling.”

Peter nodded but didn't say anything, too overcome with not only the memory of Tony’s terrified scream but also the knowledge that someone had tried to kill Tony.

“It was Ned who saved you,” Tony continued. “He saw you falling and he lunged for you. He didn’t quite manage to catch you, more just broke your fall, and you hit your head pretty bad, but it saved your life.”

Peter reached up with his free hand and felt his head, finding a large, tender lump that explained not only being out of it for over a day but the smashing headache that he currently had. He took a moment to focus on his body, seeing if anything else hurt but apart from a general achy feeling, nothing else seemed too badly damaged.

“Just the concussion and some bruising,” Tony reassured him, guessing exactly what Peter was doing. Then he sighed heavily and brought Peter’s hand up to his mouth, kissing it softly. “I thought I’d lost you, Peter. Fuck, I can’t lose you.”

“I’m here, Tony, I’ve not gone anywhere," he said softly once again.

“Yeah, but what if...I mean, if Ned wasn’t there…”

He sounded so broken that Peter tugged on his hand and then shuffled over as best he could and Tony got the hint and climbed up next to him. Gently, as if Peter was a fragile porcelain doll, he slid an arm under Peter’s shoulders and held him close. 

“So, we never got to have that conversation,” Peter pointed out.

Tony chuckled at that. “When it comes to avoidance, yours was the most spectacular effort I’ve ever seen,” he teased.

“Well I’m here now,” he whispered.

Tony pressed a kiss to his temple. “That you are, but you’re also in a hospital bed with a head injury so I’m not sure if now is the right time to have it.”

“I think I’m cognizant enough to know what I want, Tony," Peter protested. 

“You just had a near death experience - you’re never supposed to make life changing decisions right after those!”

“This isn’t something I’ve only just decided, Tony. I’ve wanted you since the day I met you.” There wasn’t any point in embarrassing himself right now in admitting that he’d been harbouring a crush for much longer than that. He’d save that for an anniversary.

Tony’s eyes softened. “Well, in that case…” He leaned forward and kissed Peter gently and everything - the headache, the pain, the fear and anger about someone trying to hurt Tony, it all faded into the background until all that he could think about were the soft lips pressed against his, the heat of Tony’s body pressing against him, the strong arm wrapped around him. 

Perhaps Peter had died after all since this was heaven.

The bed dipped and a weight settled on Peter’s legs and they broke the kiss to find Todd watching them. Tony shrieked and tried to back away but he was still tangled with Peter and so he didn't get far at all. Peter laughed and leaned down to scratch at Todd’s head and after a pointed look from the patient, Tony begrudgingly gave the tiger a pat as well. “See, he likes you,” Peter told him.

“He likes _you_ so he knows that eating me would make you sad,” Tony begged to differ.

Peter laughed again but didn't argue the point, knowing that he was right and that Tony would come around to his new tiger buddy soon enough.

After a few more minutes, Peter found himself drowsy once more and Tony slipped from the bed. “Get some sleep, Pete. I’m gonna go and grab a coffee from the mess and I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Mmm, ‘kay,” Peter mumbled, already drifting.

He felt cool fingers on his temple as his hair was brushed back and then the warm press of lips followed. Then he heard Tony quietly shooing Todd off the bed, saying, “Helen will kill you if she sees you up there. Don’t look at me like that! You’re more scared of her than I am of you!” The weight from his legs disappeared and he heard the distant _thud_ of the tiger hitting the ground, then he heard the soft click of the door shutting and he let himself fall into sleep.

oOoOo

The mess was empty, dinner being finished and everyone having gone back to their quarters but the coffee pot was half full and still on, keeping warm. Tony filled a mug and took a long sip, knowing that he probably needed to sleep but not wanting to until Peter was released from Helen’s care. His gut churned with the memory of watching Peter slip away, plummeting towards the ground, and he thought he might vomit. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push the image away and concentrated on the feeling of the mug in his hands, the warmth of the coffee seeping through the ceramic. When the feeling finally passed, he opened his eyes, taking in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the mess, letting it ground him, and he finished the coffee and poured another. 

Peter was alive. He was hurt but he wasn’t paralysed or permanently injured. Once he was recovered, he’d be able to go back to doing what he loved (though Tony was seriously considering scrapping the net-free part of their act now). He was going to be okay and he wanted Tony as much as Tony wanted him and everything was going to be okay so Tony just had to get with the program otherwise he was going to have a panic attack right here and now. 

He was hyperventilating, which was worse than wanting to barf, so he put the mug down and concentrated on slowing his breathing down, exhaling longer than he inhaled, counting his breaths like Rhodey had taught him. Once he finally had his breathing under control he realised that the best way to prevent anymore potential panic attacks was to be with Peter, so he could see that he was alive and breathing and he was going to be fine. With that decided, Tony picked up his coffee and headed back down the maze of corridors towards the first aid room.

When he rounded the final corner, he saw Brock Rumlow leaning casually against the wall, something held low in his hand that was hidden on the other side of his body. He’d not seen the man after Peter’s accident but seeing how taken he seemed to be with Peter, it wasn’t at all a surprise that he was here now. At one point, watching Peter laugh and joke with Rumlow, Tony had seriously worried that he might lose Peter before anything had had a chance to happen between the two of them. But he didn’t need to worry about that now - Peter had assured him that Tony was the one that he wanted, that he cared about him, and he wasn’t going to lose him now. Vowing to be at least polite, Tony nodded at Rumlow as he came closer.

Rumlow pushed himself away from the wall with casual elegance and crossed to stand in front of Tony, blocking his path. Tony frowned and glared at the man. “Do you mind?”

“Yeah, actually, I do.” Rumlow shook his head. “You know, Stark, I never leave a job unfinished and I don’t intend to tonight.”

“Peter isn’t a job!” Tony snarled, affronted on Peter’s behalf.

Rumlow snorted. “The kid isn’t my target,” he said.

Tony was sleep deprived and running on the fumes of caffeine and the precious seconds it took him to understand that statement was an opportunity lost to get the fuck away. “You’re the one who tampered with my catch bar?”

He got a nod in response. “Stane wanted you to die poetically, but me? I’m happy to get the job done however I can.” And he raised his arm and Tony had just enough time to see that he held a short iron bar in it before it was being swung at his head and the world was fading to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, did I do that again?


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't keep you guys waiting after two cliffhangers in a row :)

A low snarl woke Peter from sleep and he looked groggily around the room. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep but it felt like he’d only just closed his eyes. Tony was gone and so Peter decided that meant that he really had only been asleep for a few minutes, since Tony had promised to come back right away. Todd was in front of the closed door, pacing backwards and forwards, growling and butting his head against the door.

“What’s up, Todd?” Peter asked, hoping he could convince the tiger to come and lie back down since he really wasn’t up for letting him out for a bathroom break right now and Tony wouldn’t be keen to do so either. Maybe Peter could call Steve and ask him to come?

A fierce growl erupted from Todd’s throat and it was so menacing that Peter actually jerked back, shocked. He understood that Todd was actually a wild beast, and no matter how tame he appeared, he could rip any of them to shreds without a moment’s hesitation, yet he had never been genuinely scared of the tiger before. If Todd had been growling _at_ Peter, he would have wet his pants. But he wasn’t. He was growling at the door.

Or more likely, what was on the other side.

Tony.

Peter suddenly had a bad feeling and he knew that he needed to get out of this room and find Tony. He looked at the IV stand and the line that was attached to his arm and made a split second decision to tear it out, not wanting to have to drag the contraption behind him. He tugged it out, hissing at the sting of pain, and threw it to one side before twisting sideways and climbing out of bed.

He immediately swayed and he grabbed onto the mattress to steady himself but he didn’t wait long - as soon as he’d gotten up, Todd had began pacing faster, his low growl almost a continuous hum now, his eyes locked on the closed door. Peter took a staggering step, and then another, and another, and then he was stumbling forwards, only to find himself propped up by Todd. “Goo’ boy,” he slurred, reaching down to absently stroke Todd’s head whilst at the same time reaching out towards the door handle. 

As soon as the door was cracked open, Todd was pushing through it and bounding down the corridor and Peter followed as fast as he could. He came to a sudden stop as he took in the sight down the far end of the corridor - Tony was on the ground and Brock was kneeling behind him, a short metal bar held over Tony’s throat as Brock strangled the life out of him. Before Peter could even cry out, Todd was on Brock, shoving him backwards, snarling and snapping. The bar was still in Brock’s hand and he swung it viciously at the tiger’s head, but it bounced off, his thick skull harder to break than that. It was a mistake however and Todd opened his jaw wide and ducked down to Brock’s throat.

Peter cried out - if Todd actually killed Brock, even in defence of Tony, he’d likely have to be euthanised. He shuffled forward, stumbling down onto his knees by Tony’s side and managed to see that Todd wasn’t biting down, just holding Brock’s throat in his maw. He sighed in relief and was confident that Brock wasn’t going anywhere so he turned his attention to Tony. 

Tony was bleeding from the temple and his throat was already turning purple across the front but he was breathing. Peter slumped next to him and cradled his head on his lap, and brushed his hair back from his eyes, his hand coming away covered in blood. “Help!” he called out, wondering if there was anyone around. “Somebody! Please help me!” he pressed down hard on the wound to try and staunch the bleeding.

From next to him, Brock tried to move and Todd growled again, and must have tightened his hold as his captive went still once again. Peter thought of his cell phone, plugged into his charger in his cabin where he’d left it before he’d gone to lunch yesterday, useless and out of reach. He cried out again, his voice hoarse and raspy, echoing around the corridor, but there was no answer. He suddenly remembered that Tony probably had his phone on him so he reached down and slid his hand into the front pocket of his jeans, trying his best not to cop a feel before they were both conscious. 

Both pockets were empty and Peter was resigned to the fact that he was going to have to leave Tony there and go and find help. He groaned at the mere thought, not sure how well his own legs would support him and decided to yell once more for help. 

The third time _was_ the charm and a sleepy looking woman in a purple dressing gown he didn’t know shuffled into the hall. This was probably the doctor that Tony had hired to look after him. She definitely woke up as she saw them on the floor. “What’s going on? Why are you out of bed?” she asked, hurrying forward.

“Please, call security - Tony was attacked and Todd has the guy down but he needs to be restrained properly, and then Tony needs help.”

She took in the situation in a single glance and pulled a cell phone from her pocket and made a call. She spoke briefly to whoever was on the other end then knelt down beside them and began examining Tony. “It appears concussions are contagious around here,” she muttered, more to herself than Peter. He noticed that she kept one eye on Brock, still being held down by Todd. She instructed Peter to continue applying pressure to the head wound, checked Tony’s eyes, then palpated his throat and neck. She was just finishing when Clint and Phil arrived, followed closely by Fury, Bucky, and Steve. There was a whir of action as Steve coaxed Todd off Brock and he was restrained by the security team, and Fury and Bucky helped Dr Cho get Tony into the bed in the medical room. Bucky returned and helped Peter to his feet, supporting him with an arm around his waist as they made their way back into the room. There was only one hospital bed, that Tony had been deposited in, but there was a low cot next to the wall and so Bucky took Peter over to that.

He lay down and then turned onto his side, keeping an eye on Tony as Dr Cho fussed over him. Fury stood guard by the door, arms crossed over his chest, and despite Steve’s best efforts to wrangle Todd back to his enclosure, the tiger was having none of it and he slunk into the room and jumped up to sit across Peter’s legs. Peter buried a hand into the thick fur, using it as an anchor, utterly grateful to him for saving Tony. If Todd hadn’t been there, Peter would have slept through Tony’s attack and he’d probably be dead. Peter couldn’t fathom _why_ Brock had wanted to hurt Tony but he was glad that they’d made it in time to stop him.

The hustle and bustle in the room continued but Peter found his eyes growing heavy again. He was almost asleep when Todd shifted on the cot, shuffling up the bed until Peter was bracketed safely between the wall and the tiger’s body. A broad tongue swiped over Peter’s cheek and feeling warm and safe, he allowed himself to drift off.

oOoOo

Doctor Helen Cho was a tiny, brilliant, scary woman who kept both Peter and Tony confined to their makeshift hospital room for five days. Pepper arranged for another hospital bed to be brought in, Steve finally convinced Todd that indoors wasn’t the best place for a tiger, and Fury postponed the start of the season by three weeks in order to give his stars extra time to recover from their joint concussions. They had a steady stream of visitors to keep them from going stir crazy (though Ned hugged Peter so hard that he almost cracked a rib, earning him the wrath of Dr Cho), but the one that got the most reaction from Tony was a man who Peter had only ever seen on television that arrived the day before they were discharged.

 _“Platypus!”_ Tony almost screamed as the man walked in.

“Hey, Tones,” he replied, a wry grin on his face as they hugged.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe that you’re here!”

“Yeah, well, I heard some douche tried to kill my best friend, so after taking care of the dick who hired him, I had to come and see you. You know I can’t pass up the opportunity to see you in a hospital gown.”

Tony was grinning and he turned to Peter and gestured madly at the man. “Pete! This is Rhodey! He came to visit!”

Peter laughed at Tony’s enthusiasm. “I know who he is, Tony.”

Tony looked confused, his brain still slightly sluggish after the blow to the head. “How?” He was adorable when he frowned like that.

“Because I watched all of your performances over the years, Tony, so I know who your flyer was at the Iron Circus.” Peter held out a hand to Rhodes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Peter.”

Rhodes laughed as they shook. “I know who you are as well, but it’s great to meet you in person, man.” 

“So, you took care of Stane?” Peter asked.

An utterly frightening look passed over Rhodes’ face. “Yeah, he’s been arrested for conspiracy to commit murder - he’ll be going away for a long time.” He turned back to Tony and tilted his head up gently so he could see the bruising on his throat. “The guy he hired got caught too, didn't he?”

“Yeah, Todd took care of that,” Tony assured him.

“Todd?”

“Todd the tiger.”

One of Rhodes eyebrows shot up. “There’s a tiger called _Todd?”_

“Blame Rogers for that one. I think the circus that had them from kits called them something else. Anyway, not the point.”

“Then what is?”

“The _point_ is that Todd the tiger, who is scary as all fuck but not too bad for a murder kitty once you get to know him and he saves your life and all, pounced on Rumlow and then chomped on his neck.”

“He didn't bite down!” Peter protested. “He was just holding him until Phil and Clint could arrive.”

Rhodes looked shocked. “A tiger got his teeth on some dude’s neck and didn’t rip out his jugular?”

“He didn't even break the skin,” Peter said proudly. 

“Did I tell you that the upcoming season’s theme was superheroes?” Tony asked. “‘Cos Todd is totes a superhero.”

“Did you just use the word _totes?”_ Rhodey demanded.

“I totes did,” Tony teased.

Rhodes rolled his eyes and then shoved Tony’s legs aside so he could sit down. “I knew the East coast would break you, I just didn't realise how much.”

“I think Obi - that _fuckwit_ \- did a good enough job of that already,” Tony said sadly.

Rhodes sighed. “I’m so sorry, Tony. I guess he was mad that his golden ticket up and walked out. You leaving didn't just dry up his supply of tech designs that he could steal but our ticket sales took a big hit as well.”

Tony winced. “I didn't mean to make it harder on everyone else,” he apologised.

“Hey, don’t worry about that. You’re not to blame for Stane deciding that the best way to deal with you leaving was to _take a hit out on you._ He was just fucked in the head. The Iron Circus’ assets have all been frozen so we’re down for the count this season but we’re gonna come back, bigger and better than before, okay? I’m gonna take care of everyone.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Rhodes said with a grin. “I’m stepping down from the bars and I’m gonna take over as Ringmaster. There’s this amazing brother/sister act - Sue and Johnny Storm - that are gonna give you and wonder boy here a run for your money.”

“Oh, really? I don’t think you realise just how great we are together,” Tony bragged.

“I guess it depends - did you finally grow the balls to make a move?”

Peter suddenly forgot how to breathe. “What?” he wheezed.

Rhodes gave him the biggest shit eating grin that he’d ever seen. “I was getting so _sick_ of Tony calling me up three times a week and just _pining_ over you. I kept telling him to just kiss you already.”

“Hey!” Tony protested.

“Dammit, Tones, is that your way of telling me that you _haven’t_ made a move yet?”

“No!”

“No you haven’t, or no, you’re not telling me?”

“It means that, yes, I have made a move but it’s recent and we’ve both been stuck in here so we’ve not had a lot of chances to actually explore that so keep your toothy, smug grin to yourself!”

“Awww,” Rhodes cooed, “isn’t he cute when he’s pouting.”

Peter laughed. “Very,” he agreed. 

Tony crossed his arms over his chest and pouted even more. “I hate you both.”

“Nah you don’t, Tony,” Rhodes said.

“I’m pretty sure that if you hated me, Todd would eat you,” Peter teased. 

“I really gotta meet this Todd - I think I’d like him,” Rhodes mused.

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Peter promised.

Rhodes patted Tony on the knee and then got up. “Right, I’m going to go and see if I can find someplace to crash around here. There’s not much I can do back home until the legal shit gets sorted so I’m officially on vacation. Figured I’d stick around and scope out the competition.” He gave Peter a cheeky wink.

Peter leaned over and rummaged in the drawer of the small table next to the bed. He pulled out a set of keys and tossed them to Rhodes. “Here, stay in my cabin. It’s up the back, red and blue trim, can’t miss it.”

“You sure?”

Peter nodded and gave Tony a pointed look. “I have a feeling that I’m not going to be staying there much from now on - not since my boyfriend has the most luxurious quarters of us all.”

Tony groaned and muttered something under his breath about jealous journalists.

“Cheers, man. I’ll go make myself at home. I’ll catch you both later.” Rhodes waved and then he was gone, leaving them alone.

Tony was still pouting so Peter climbed out of bed and slipped into his, giving him a kiss to chase the pout away. “Hi,” he said, smiling softly.

“Hi,” Tony replied, reaching up to touch Peter’s cheek. “Did you mean that?”

“Mean what?”

“Are you gonna be staying with me?”

Peter kissed him again. “As long as you’ll have me.”

Tony hugged him close and whispered, “That’s forever then,” and they curled up together, taking comfort on just being close to each other.

They were jolted from sleep not long after by Dr Cho’s chiding and she kicked Peter back into his own bed but that was okay. They’d have forever to fall asleep together so he could wait one more day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've just got a short epilogue to go now that I'll post tomorrow :)


	12. Epilogue

The crowd went absolutely wild and Peter knew that he was grinning like a madman but there was nothing quite like a successful performance and a cheering audience to get the blood pumping. Tony took his hand, holding it tight and raised their arms above their heads in a victory salute before they bowed once more. One by one the other Avengers were called onto the arena to take a final bow, Stephen getting the next largest cheer for his amazing illusions, but Todd, Greg, and Geraldine getting the loudest cheer of them all. Their capes fluttered as they bounded around the ring, and as Todd loped over to sit next to Peter, leaning heavily against his legs, Peter couldn’t remember ever being happier after an opening night of the season. That they had overcome such obstacles, had recovered in time from their injuries to still perform had been a minor miracle but he knew that without Tony by his side, he wouldn't have managed.

They eventually made their way backstage from the ring, after several callbacks, and then it was an hour spent meeting and greeting special guests and sponsors, posing for photos and accepting congratulations. Rhodes was there, and Ned’s parents, as well as Clint’s kids from his previous relationship and so despite having to make small talk with fans and corporate sponsors, it also had a family feel to it and turned into a bit of an impromptu after party.

By the time they were winding their way through the lot to Tony’s cabin, Peter was exhausted but still too buzzed to be able to sleep. It was always the way after their first few shows, until he got back into the rhythm of performances but at least now he didn't have to toss and turn in bed by himself. 

He had Tony to distract him.

He glanced over at the man, walking in companionable silence by his side, still quite unable to believe his luck. He’d not only landed the best trapeze partner that he could ever hope for but their blossoming relationship was going from strength to strength. He hadn’t slept in his own cabin for four weeks now - Rhodes was still using it - and Peter had been falling into bed with Tony every night and waking up in his arms each morning. No one could live, work, and sleep with someone without there being the occasional argument or disagreement but there had been fewer than he’d expected. They were so in sync, were so compatible that there wasn’t much that ruffled each other’s feathers. It was _easy_ and Peter found that it was a little like coming home.

They reached the cabin to find the porch covered in vases and bouquets of flowers. It was usual for fans and sponsors to leave such offerings after a show and the crew were well aware of where Peter was spending his time so they had made sure to drop his off there as well. They gathered up the flowers, bringing them inside for the night (the troupe would then donate them to women’s shelters, old folk’s homes, and the local hospital) and as they did, Peter found a small package on the stoop along with a few envelopes. Once they were inside he tossed it to Tony and said, “You’ve got mail.”

Tony examined it and then grinned and tossed it right back at Peter. “Actually, that’s for you.”

Peter frowned and looked more closely at the label but it was definitely addressed to Tony which meant that he’d ordered it _for_ Peter. It was only tiny and he struggled with the amount of packaging tape on it but he finally got into it and a cheap, cardboard jewellery box fell out. Curious, he pulled off the lid and then felt the breath whoosh out of his lungs. 

His mother’s locket was nestled inside.

He felt an arm wrap around his waist and then Tony was helping his unsteady legs cross the room so they could sink onto the couch. “Tony, I...how, I mean...where...it’s Mom’s and you…”

Tony leaned in close to look at the locket. “Toomes sold it to the highest bidder so I assumed the sort of person who bought it would probably be the sort to try and turn a profit. It took a little bit but I tracked down the listing for it and make them an offer that they couldn't refuse.”

His eyes were watering as he looked up at Tony. “You found it, you found it for me.”

Tony plucked the locket from the box and examined it. “It’s beautiful, just like you.” Then he opened the clasp and draped the chain around Peter’s neck before fastening it. 

The locket sat cool and light against his throat and Peter reached up to touch it. “Thank you, Tony. This is honestly the most amazing thing that anyone has ever done for me.”

Tony used his thumb to gently brush a tear from Peter’s cheek and he leaned in and kissed him softly. “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met so it stands to reason that you deserve amazing things.”

“Like you, because you’re amazing,” Peter told him, heartfelt and ernest. “God, Tony, do you have any idea how much I fucking love you?”

Tony’s eyes went wide - it was the first time that Peter had said the words, despite knowing that he was in love since before they’d gotten together. “Yeah?” he asked, a smile on his lips and wonder in his eyes. “That’s convenient since I kinda love you too.”

Peter arched a brow. “Kinda?”

Tony gave a nonchalant shrug and held up his finger and thumb, pinched together. “Just a little bit.”

“I guess we’ll have to see what we can do to up those numbers,” Peter purred and he pushed Tony back against the couch and climbed up onto his lap. 

The first kiss was dirty and frantic, with tongue and teeth and hands pawing at one another, the adrenaline still coursing through their veins. The next couple gentled somewhat, turning hot and intense, their need for one another thrumming through their blood like a heartbeat. Tony stood up, cradling Peter’s ass to support him as he wound his way through the field of flowers in the small cabin towards the bedroom. He gently lay Peter on the bed and then his nimble fingers were shedding both his own clothes and Peter’s as well. Soon they were naked and pressed against one another and Peter revelled in the weight above him. 

Tony fumbled for the lube and he held it out for Peter, who shook his head. “I want to feel you inside of me tonight, please.”

His already dilated eyes seemed to get even darker and Tony nodded, then he kissed Peter, long and slow before pulling back and flipping the cap on the lube. Peter watched as he slicked his cock, always a little breathless at the sight of Tony like this. They’d been fucking like rabbits for weeks now, taking turns topping, pushing one another up against every surface of the cabin, even having a sneaky hookup in the empty arena after dark, but it never got old, seeing how much Tony wanted him. Once he was liberally coated in lube, Tony rubbed the excess around Peter’s entrance, inserting just the tip of his finger to coat the rim. Then he lifted one of Peter’s legs up onto his shoulder, covered Peter’s face with soft, butterfly kisses, and pressed slowly in. 

Peter bore down, helping Tony sink inside even deeper as he thrust shallowly to spread the lube. A minute or two later, they were pressed together as close as they could be and they took a moment to just cherish the feeling as they held each other tightly and kissed softly.

“Ready?” Tony murmured, rotating his hips just a little, a promise of what was to come.

“Ready,” Peter whispered, and then he was falling, but Tony was there to catch him, just like always. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for reading, I'm so glad you all enjoyed my foray into the Circus AU :)


End file.
